Montag, 24. Januar 2011



You've seen the days when the roads were death,
And the fires burned right to the brim,
And the bike you rode to school now it rests,
And your story began.

You read your fair share of books,
You tied your lace a thousand times,
And you saw the good in the worst of the crooks,
And your story began.

The sun it burnt so I jumped right in,
I felt the cold sea kiss my skin,
I turned around and you were gone,
And I'm thinking of you, thinking of you.


Old friend, where you headed, for now.

Window frames hold pictures of you,
And the tree outside appears on end,
And you'd seen the good in the seam of the crop,
And your story began.

The sun it burnt so I jumped right in,
I felt the cold sea kiss my skin,
I turned around and you were gone,
And I'm thinking of you, can't stop thinking of you.

Old friend, where you headed, for now.

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