piątek, 6 marca 2015

poniedziałek, 2 marca 2015



and when it rains,
will you always find an escape?
hust running away
 from all of the ones who love you
 from everything

 you made yourself a bed
at the bottom of the blackest hole
 and you'll sleep 'til may
and you'll say that you don't want to see the sun anymore



 wracam do korzeni, Paramore



ż.


just.