You shit-talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles, I wish I could unrecall how we almost had it all, dancing phantoms on the terrace, are they second-hand embarrassed, that I can't get out of bed? 'Cause something counterfeit's dead.
September 5, 2024 at 12:19 AM
You shit-talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles, I wish I could unrecall how we almost had it all, dancing phantoms on the terrace, are they second-hand embarrassed, that I can't get out of bed? 'Cause something counterfeit's dead.