poniedziałek, 14 listopada 2011



there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

2 komentarze:

Toleczek pisze...

pożądam!

Rybb pisze...

git młoda