don't pout, wind
After all the jacks are in their boxes
And the clowns have all gone to bed
You can hear happiness staggering on down the street
Footsteps dressed in red
And the wind whispers mary
Fraught with inelegance, this blog will promote idiosyncracies beyond the seventh degree of wisdom.
After all the jacks are in their boxes
And the clowns have all gone to bed
You can hear happiness staggering on down the street
Footsteps dressed in red
And the wind whispers mary
time: 08:38
2 comments:
yawn
jimmy?
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