Je me sens bon quand les roses sont sur le feu
If my mind is on fireIf you can see it in my eyes
You are not loved like you were
Not as loved as the photo
Of a boy sitting on a stone
Where I could have been
And I feel good
When the roses are burning
But when does all of this end?
Poetry by Tobias Bauer
Read 701 times
Written on 2006-07-25 at 22:11
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