You didn't write, you didn't call
It didn't cross your mind at all
And through the waves
The waves of a.m. squall
You couldn't feel a thing at all
Your fifty-five and three-eighths tall.
A.B.
23 julho 2007
I dreamed you were a cosmonaut
Postado por Coco Prado às segunda-feira, julho 23, 2007
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