Such a sour girl

Pura dualidad, el cuerpo, en Buenos Aires... la mente, en Chipre.

jueves, 18 de junio de 2009





He comes to me every night
No words are left to say
With his hands around my neck
I close my eyes and pass away





I don't know who he is
In my dreams he does exist
His passion is a kiss
And I can not resist




Ich warte hier
Don't die before I do
Ich warte hier
Stirb nicht vor mir

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