(Julia Fordham). . My rose tinted glasses are incredible. Blinding me to the inevitable. Coloring my judgment like a jumbo pack of pens. Like the ones you buy for birthday's.
Well, it's raining out. The windshield wipers, they don't work so well. And it's hard to see what's in front of me. . Well, the pain is sharp. And it grows deeper as the day goes dark.