jueves, 23 de febrero de 2012

Why do I sear?

Twisted thoughts that spin round my head, I'm spinning...  
How quick the sun can drop away? 
And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass,
of what was everything?
All the pictures have all been washed in black,
tattooed everything.
All the love gone bad turned my world to black, 
tattooed all I see, all that I am,
all I'll ever be...

- Black (Pearl Jam)

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