Out of every time I call myself to see you, I cry. Out of every time I challenge myself to touch you, I cry. Is it the pressure or the past, that won't make us ever last? But I hear from you, and now I'm finally through, doing you.
I can't bring my mind to my heart, I can't change the time or rearange my parts. You should not worry about the real me, because I can't ever be the real she.
I spend my moments trying to hold it. But the past says "no". The past deciedes I should let go.
Don't Wait Till The Rain Is Over, Dance In It:heart[/color:6f87f4884c]:
· Tue Jul 26, 2011 @ 02:10am · 0 Comments