Folletti di Praga
..non è morto ciò che è morto, ma dopo bizzarri eoni anche la morte può morire..
Categories: flussi di coscienza | Add a Comment

Woke up to the sound of pouring rain
The wind would whisper and I’d think of you
And all the tears you cried, that called my name
And when you needed me I came through
I paint a picture of the days gone by
When love went blind and you would make me see
I’d stare a lifetime into your eyes
So [...]