Of the art of making waves
I've had my lesson in spades
And these ghosts they make it plain
They're never going away
And my ghost she makes it plain
I haven't gathered a thing
Well I know we're dug in deep here
Why can't we live high with the wind?
Can't we live?
Tanya Donelly, Whiskey Tango Ghosts
Postado por rita às 12:08 AM