For me, the past was all my story I wrote for him, but it was breathing for me
Tile you didnt know my crap A bunch of insignificant soil under my pit Tile I was not my heart my heart I was Written / I wrote the candle to the pitch Written in my heart / I wrote in the cage of the man
I hadnt been to my life. I had not eaten my life Tile I was simply deceived by curse and I was eased.
