I cut my fingers on a broken picture frame The welling up waxes and wanes. It's not fair and it hasn't been All my friends are living saints. Been killing me for weeks A garden weed that cracks concrete. It hasn't been fair for long Growing up isn't moving on.
Do you miss our broken reason or the nights spent treating Troubles and normalcy to bottles and comedies? You forgot your necklace upstairs on purpose It was you golden ticket scam and it always made us laugh Do you see me as your acquaintance, your death by time, age and long distance?
Broken picture frames The welling up waxes and wanes. It's not fair and it hasn't been All my friends are living saints. Been killing me for weeks A garden weed that cracks concrete. It hasn't been fair for long Growing up isn't moving on
All my friends are living saints Broken still but never breaking ties
I never pictured this, disperse in fall and don't reminisce See it's just not fair, not everyone moved on Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
