Monday, 26 December 2011

seven degrees whistling through the 9th floor window
freezing my soul and bones and my restless heart
piece of heart like the moon outside and never satisfied

im turning cold
im turning old

get a hold of yourself sweetheart
the needy type don't suit you

red blossoms and love at any price
shanghai express after midnight
shades of gray and smoke

silhouettes in black and white.

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