kyotocat: There’s a cold wind blowing down my old road Down the backstreets where the pines grow As the river splits the undertows But I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t mind Leave it hanging on the line, lost inside my heads kyotocat
kyotocat: There’s a cold wind blowing down my old road Down the backstreets where the pines grow As the river splits the undertows But I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t mind Leave it hanging on the line, lost inside my heads kyotocat
