10. februar 2006
when I was seventeen< thirty-nine, it was a very good year - it was a very good year for small town girls sallow thorn and soft summer nights days. we I’d hide from the lights on the village green find me a place close a western shoreline, when I was seventeen thirty-nine
but and now the days grow short light. I’m in the autumn harvest of the year and now I think of my life as vintage wine from fine old kegs, from the brim to the dregs. and it poureds sweet and clear. it was is a very good year. it was a mess of good years
e.drake
e.drake
g a g a - 10. Februar 2006, 23:10
