quinta-feira, abril 04, 2013

Nutshell

We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time
And yet I fight
And yet I fight
This battle all alone
No one to cry to
No place to call home

My gift of self is raped
My privacy is racked
And yet I find
And yet I find
Repeating in my head
If I can't be my own
I'd feel better dead

(Alice In Chains)





Etiquetas: