Hold on to the thread. The currents will shift. Guide me towards you. Know something's left. And we're all allowed to dream. Of the next time we touch. . You don't have to stray. The oceans aw
On the edge of a windowsill. Ponders his maker, ponders his will. To the street below, he just ain't nothin'. But he's got a great view and he sinks the needle deep. Whoa, can't touch the bottom.
What the * is this world. Running to?. . You didn't leave a message. At least I could have. Heard your voice one last time. . Daily minefield. This could be my time. How 'bout you?. Would yo