of a dIseMbOwellEd oCtOpus: 17
sMell of aMber a hole in my bEd sleEping on the grOund leaving the eArth kEeping life alIve iT's eMpty sOmetiMes then lOve caNnot sHape aNy dreaM... this has been lOst again waiting for the sOund to shApe the oNe i neEd a raInbOw of blOw ouT sMiles you would let your haNd follow the curves of my... Sign in to see full entry.