Coming down
Here on treasure island
If only greed was hunger
Or love was a lover
Coming down
It has to be
It has to be
My imagination
Cold has nothing precious
Though heartless ambitions
Ships for sale
An empty bay
Below the hill are cars
With fading lights
And celebrity stars
An empty bay
Dusky internet cafe's
Wheels turning.
Galaxies apart
They were instantly breakfast
Eat that sandwich
I hope to leave that mouth
Sunset in the Caribbean
So what is eating you
Mustard mustard
Wear your head
Where your heart is
Dont be dreams of sand
Your hands clenching
Would you like a rubber band
Summertime in the city
Wear your teeth nicely.
He found himself in an infiine other mooses.
This was the best place ever
And for the first time in his life
Moose was happy.
The misuse and frequency.
I don't like doing that. There are hundreds of good messages out there. It seems almost revolutionary not to act as an advisor.
