Print

You're gonna grow to regret it You're gonna learn to hate the girls you loved Try to forget it all happened You're gonna long for the touch of a long time love You're gonna tire of the tragic And curse every night you're alone for the ride You've been embracing the silence The solitude's been a ruse and now you're wise Maybe it's genetics Unnatural and foreign to my kind I need a shot of Spanish Italian or French, or those combined Just to enjoy the aesthetics Tramp down the grape then drink the wine Kith and kin and comfort Community and care and truth in kind Maybe it's just habit Something suited just for a like mind A kind of distraction Romanticized and inflated for story time And it's mine And I'll always want to have it Keep it close Keep it inside Where I can always find it Because it's mine From Letras Mania