House: Universe always settles the score
Cuddhy: Does it?
House: No. But it should.
Hours pass, and she still counts the minutes that I am not there..
I swear I didn’t mean for it to feel like this—like every inch of me is bruised
I’m not sure if I’m singing for the love of it or for the love of you;
long time coming, but now snow is gone
Excuse me, are you lost? Perhaps you would care to visit the site map