Maybe we weren’t meant for Paradise. Maybe we were meant to fight our way through. Struggle. Claw our way up, scratch for every inch of the way. Maybe we can’t stroll to the music of the lutes. We must march to the sound of drums. …
Maybe we weren’t meant for Paradise. Maybe we were meant to fight our way through. Struggle. Claw our way up, scratch for every inch of the way. Maybe we can’t stroll to the music of the lutes. We must march to the sound of drums. …