Estado de graça
I can't take their pressure
No one cares if you live or die
They just want me gone
They want me gone
I'm coming home
I'm coming home
To make it all right
So dry your eyes
We think the same things at the same time
We just cant do anything about it
We think the same things at the same time
There are too many of us
So you can't count
Thom York - Harrowdown hill
Posted by kamarrad at 6:10 da tarde
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