Pitiful, an utter disgrace
Roots of character I can trace...
I went home to cry on my bed,
not a word to my mother was said...
If only you could feel the breeze caressing your...
and know it is me, far away, touching you with...
Everyone searches for those people that make life...
those people who can make everything okay...
I don't really want to know,
If I will ever let you go...
Your eyes are everything i wished for
your touch is like a sensation from an angel...
I'm changing,
I'm not who I use to be...