Bad. Dream.
It's 6.00 am.
I over analyze.
And pick my memory to bits.
I can't write whats on my mind.
As every time I look at this, I'll start over again...
Shit, now I've gone and done it.
It's 6.00 am.
I over analyze.
And pick my memory to bits.
I can't write whats on my mind.
As every time I look at this, I'll start over again...
Shit, now I've gone and done it.
Posted by A man called horse at Sunday, August 19, 2007
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