I don't know, it happened so
fast
And sometimes all I see is
lonely
Oh lonely
He's gone and I don't like
to hear anymore
All the places that saw us
meet
The darkness, there's not
much left of our oldtown
I would call him, Hey Bub
He had a little place he kept
for me
And he would tell me - (poof)
I miss him...
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |