It's not around
Let the seasons begin
It rolls right on
Let the seasons begin
Take the big king down.
I miss writing but I can never figure out anymore the right things to say. That's sad. That makes me sad.
I wish I could play the trumpet or something from the horn section. Something that could be considered classy and filled with lust. The bass is neither of that.
West.
Let's start brewing beer
To help us forget
It doesn't seem too hard
And the cost seems about right
We'll finally be masters of a trade
And after we've brewed enough
Made enough
I'll be able to take you on the vacation
You always begged for.
Let's start harvesting the grapes
So our wine business will thrive
I know you can't tell the difference
Between Merlot and Syrah
But that's okay
It's easy to pretend when your heart
Is pumping lust.
What the fuck am I even talking about?
I should be writing a paper not rambling.
Have you ever wondered what goes on
When the soldier returns home?
Nope, have YOU!?
I have one too many photo frames with no pictures inside of them.
