As I sit and wonder, stride and blunder, how should I, live after life. I play here all alone, my fingers keep me company and moan, and how could I, play the end of time.
Over there out in the yonder, do I see my ferry man wonder. Bit by bit, attracted to the sound of it. I play my melody of life and death, a dance of passion in once tired hips.…
ContinueAdded by Dusten "The Reaper" on August 18, 2015 at 12:30am — No Comments
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