The heat is on its own
The roof seems so inviting
A vantage point is gained
To watch the children fighting
So lead me to the harbour
And float me on the waves
Sink me in the ocean
To sleep in a sailors grave
To sleep in a sailors grave
-Moby
“I record my life, sifting and trying to separate what is real from what I’ve dreamed. I have decided not to tell you what is fact versus what is unfact primarily because (a) I am giving you a portrait of the essence of me. come with me, reader.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario