terça-feira, 26 de maio de 2015

Doesn't matter which transport

Hi bet you wrapped your laughing gear around a thousand hills out there
Your own heart texted you expressing it's longing to get back into the car
there's a hundred windows for where the journey ends
No matter how desolate the Cul-de-sac

Even if you are two invisible eyes
observing those you once admired
Or the mouth in a river telling your life story to the running water
Doesn't matter which transport, a ride is a ride

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