You're just a pretty face for me to put in my wallet,
Nestled among the money that I could never love,
One of the things I look at from time to time,
When the clouds hide the stars up above,
Jesus said, "they know not what they do".
We're all drifting at sea, without reason or rhyme,
And it's oh so hard to care about you,
But I still pretend to... is that such a crime?
No comments:
Post a Comment