And the frame
the frame
it crashes down
Leaving in its wake
an empty cup of honey
one closed door
a wet telephone
and a smashed window
As the new sun dawned.
.
.
.
speak to the dark angels
the frame
it crashes down
Leaving in its wake
an empty cup of honey
one closed door
a wet telephone
and a smashed window
As the new sun dawned.
.
.
.
speak to the dark angels
posted by Inkblot at Thursday, March 30, 2006
2 Comments:
love sure can fuck you over can't it?
there's something about that telephone...
Post a Comment
<< Home