It was an old mistake The frustration we do not be afraid of a permanent story and follow me You like the amber stone in your hand fooled by your eyes. Thats my love but in my mattress I didnt have a winning game I didnt like tomorrows love of my head Re -lover in the memories in the again my shoulders again for two ransom again no one who was not mad at you It was a frustration of our place no matter what you want to come.
