The rush of the wind on my hair
Reminds me of
That girl is so wild
Does just what she wants
Listens to
Every time I see your face
Every smile that you make
Every
Deppressive
Emotional
Psychotic
Tempermental
All faults that lie in me
What can
I have a question to ask the world
Why the
You might think what I do is bad
You might think
Thoughts slither through an open tomb
Energizing the carcass within
You left without a phone call
Without a warning
I didn't know
She's fine
She's fine
She's a beaute
She's perfection
She's mine
She's mine
She
Images of light filter through my eyes
Sun shining down
You're more perfect then you know
Your eyes so bright
Your lips
» More on Ben Fitzgerald