lunes, 12 de noviembre de 2012

Mondy bloody monday

The dirt is gray, the leaves are dry.
I'm missing the person behind the mug.

2 comentarios:

Luz dijo...

His home is where his heart is at the parties that he rolls.
Tells himself he can't be lonely cause he's never on his own,
But all the friends he makes at night, in the morning they are gone,
And he's left with his four walls, his aching head, his silent phone...

You can feel like a part of something if you're part of the scene
[...] but you can't get out of this skin...

PATO dijo...

Till a taxi drops you back into a morning full of doubts.