time after time
terça-feira, 16 de setembro de 2008
Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick and think of you turning in circles. Confusion is nothing new. Flashback to warm nights almost left behind suitcase of memories. Sometimes you picture me I'm walking too far ahead. You're calling to me, I can't hear what you've said. After your picture fades and darkness hast urned to gray, watching through windows I'm wondering if you're ok.
