at the end of the party of life
nothing is saddest under this grey suburban sky
a glass of liquor half filled with no use
no one left to warm up
a piece of loneliness hidden in a pocket
and fragments of regrets spilled on the floor
Marco Bo
nothing is saddest under this grey suburban sky
a glass of liquor half filled with no use
no one left to warm up
a piece of loneliness hidden in a pocket
and fragments of regrets spilled on the floor
Marco Bo
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