The Doughboy's Entrails
Sitting at my desk I gaze outside
We drive our ships to new lands fight
Counting down to the day it will be better
Everything's not always windex clear, Mr. Clean!
As soon as the bell rang they died
I'm on the edge, slowly falling foreward. Won't you catch me?
That shall disappear into the abyss forever
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment