Aren't you a sweet summer child.
The elevator doesn't go to the top floor.
They've got bats in the belfry.
Edit:
"Aren't you a sweet summer child." This one haunts me. The old blue eyed ladies said it to me so many times.
Waist deep in snow now, hard to even pick up a foot and put it down.
Aren't you a sweet summer child.
The elevator doesn't go to the top floor.
They've got bats in the belfry.
Edit:
"Aren't you a sweet summer child." This one haunts me. The old blue eyed ladies said it to me so many times.
Waist deep in snow now, hard to even pick up a foot and put it down.
Harsh reality poetically expressed.
Harsh reality poetically expressed.
(post is archived)