playing with words last week:
They drew in like cold hands to a fire, they coloring my day in yellow, they change me in a good way, They drew in like cold hands to a fire.
I must build another kind of life, I must do something, my life is blue, and everything is a lullaby.
Bed time is a pleasure.
The way you smile expressing how many problems that you hide.
I guess moving forwards is a lullaby, people keep looking for a fault, and looking over behind it.
Diamonds of sunlight danced on the water, every little thing is an introspection.
Smile like a foolish clown, yet we need smile like a foolish clown.