Puesto ya el pie' en el estribo/ con las ansias de la muerte/ gran Senor, esta te escribo...

[chucky_p]

And now its all rainclouds and thunder claps; they say from their electronic boxes. She says she is concerened for me. That's all, its as simple as that, she's concerned. Well I'm concerned too, concerned that I have no idea. So I'll freeze up, I stop. Tommrow I may even turn to stone. The hills, bring them to me before I'm gone, before I fade. I

Comments

[tisbutascratch1]

i can normally get the gist of your entries.