Tuesday, 28th January...
There was no rain, I remembered. Neither was darkness of the storm cloud overhead... What I really knew that you was there, standing on the curb, waving hand at a direction which I also knew it wasn't mine.
Your black glasses looked so cold, frosty. A man came over with a motorcycle... while I was stuck there still.
nothing's more shameful than letting eyes of darkness go
and I ain't no saint, a man with a mortal sin
There was no rain, I remembered. Neither was darkness of the storm cloud overhead... What I really knew that you was there, standing on the curb, waving hand at a direction which I also knew it wasn't mine.
Your black glasses looked so cold, frosty. A man came over with a motorcycle... while I was stuck there still.
nothing's more shameful than letting eyes of darkness go
and I ain't no saint, a man with a mortal sin
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