Fading flowers in her hair | She’s suffering from wear and tear | She lies in waterfalls of dreams | And never questions what it means.
Why did they make birds so delicate and fine as those sea swallows when the ocean can be so cruel?
La vida es como la espuma, por eso hay que darse como el mar
watch where you stray my friend.
the national, roma | 23-7-14
time was not passing | it was turning in a circle
A blindness that touches perfection but hurts just like anything else.