If my page had a DJ console,
I would wake you up with electronic slashes and
Scream:
“I think we made it, girl!”
Come inside a smokey room. With a paper and pen. Incense and cigarettes, flowers and water. They all go together, too well.
Come inside a smokey room. With a paper and pen. Incense and cigarettes, flowers and water. They all go together, too well.
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