Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail And so we go back to the remedy. Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie And tell yourself, “You’ll be the death of me”
Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail And so we go back to the remedy. Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie And tell yourself, “You’ll be the death of me”
Pingback: Internet Provider
Pingback: cruises