You've touched these tired eyes of mine
And mapped my face line by line
And some how growing old feels fine
I listen close for I'm not smart
You wrap your thoughts and works of art
And there hanging on the walls of my heart.
I may not have the softest touch
I may not say the words as such
And though I may not look like much
I'm yours.
Saboreia e Não Eventes!!
Há 14 anos