Wrinkles remind the soul where it’s been and where it hasn’t.
Ah the first summer of love was here when I was much too young
ah the first summer of love was clearly just a summer long
You’d kill yourself for recognition,
you’d kill yourself to never, ever stop.
‘Broke another mirror..
you’re turning in to something you are not.
Excuse me, are you lost? Perhaps you would care to visit the site map