Dark Clouds Rain Down Tears Washing Away Swirling Colors From The Clown's Face..
The premise is:
That I sit down and write tonight
The page before me blank and white
Today and all days I feel wrong
Nothing’s right
I’ve traded sight for a copied copyright for some old
And bored forgotten song
Was I wrong?
The demise is:
The price I paid and dealing with the pain delayed
And all the times I could have said
It was my fault the tears you shed
I didn’t, I couldn’t… this is the bed…
ContinueAdded by maggot on June 12, 2011 at 7:00pm — No Comments
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