Panic
Pale
I'll tuck the soil around your unborn heads what the fuck was i thinking of? i'm sorry for the things i said i'll tip my glass to misery and pour it on your graves i can't believe i wasn't there for you i fall asleep with a gun in my mouth because of all the things i did and i can't be at peace with myself unless you know i cared my hand against your cheek so in the dark i could feel you smile
From Letras Mania