When there is a birch tree and it's just a birch tree; the headaches are just caffeine and there's no music left for these ears, so sick of all the notes, the day is just a mirror and me, I'm just walking on reflections of myself. Your shadow used to prove the sun was real. Now? The streets are all empty; and all the possible explosions are just people passing by. And the sun goes down And the sun goes down And the sun comes up And the sun goes down And there is really nothing so special about it, really- but you need to know: If you don't think I'm beautiful, you're a waste of my time. -e. _______________________________________________ Five7Five mailing list [EMAIL PROTECTED] http://www.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/five7five
