jueves, 3 de mayo de 2012
He preferido el polvo así, sencillamente, pues la palabra amor aún me suena a hueco..
When every song, every letter, every frase has a name.
When you want him to disappear, when nothing have sense.
When you don't know how are you, when you are wrong, right, perfect and destroyed.
There, is when you know you're screwed
I have to move on, everything is done.
You know you're wrong, I'm right and there's nothing to do.
WE HAVE TO MOVE ON, I HAVE TO FORGET..
Because Earth keeps turning.. and I don't want to get trapped
Sometimes, we think something is important but is not..
But, nevermind, you made it less important, you made it wrong.
So from here everything died, so from here everything is over.
Friendship shouldn't be so bad.
By Emi Holstein en 13:30