lunes, 15 de agosto de 2011

De esas cosas que me encuentro:


wanna write one for you..
the unwritable girl
who sleeps in my hand
in this interstate world
who leaves me for dead,
in my ghost town grey
and returns like color t.v
and i’ve tried to run
my little miles
stumble over my sin
you’ll never find me out
its been just one dream
we’re living in
but you’re still, and you’re bright and you’re quiet
in the heart of it

Gregory Alan Isakov

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