Smile, smile!
Inside here, it's all rotting down.
We're all growing colder and older.
I stand here like your clown.
Muses are the little voices in your head which tell you to do things and leave you to clean up the dirt when it becomes too much of a bother. You can't find them, they find you.
1 Comments:
hey michael don't make it bad.
take a sad song and make it better.
so let in it and let it OUT. :)
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