I try tho stay away from this- but body wants
On a little bench of wodden
a girl was sitting white as snow
she tought about the end to come
as flakes were falling on her hand
I wish my hands were purest cristals
which make it impossible to ever touch
I wish my mind was froozen too
to never have to think of you
Just throw aways your useless clothing
and lay down in the winterice
The girlie popsickle
who will lick it now.
a girl was sitting white as snow
she tought about the end to come
as flakes were falling on her hand
I wish my hands were purest cristals
which make it impossible to ever touch
I wish my mind was froozen too
to never have to think of you
Just throw aways your useless clothing
and lay down in the winterice
The girlie popsickle
who will lick it now.