Water floods through the street
It rises higher every second, now
It's up to my ankles, past my feet
How about you stand up and take a bow?
This is your work of art, made of your deceit
A drop for every time you though of her, but how?
It's rising fast, already up to my neck
Our passion, like fire, put out by this awful flood..
xx
Posted by xXinjoyandsorrowXx on 2008-05-27 20:18:13 | Rating: | Views: 42