Funny how secrets travel. I'd start to believe if I were to bleed. Thin skies, the man chains his hands held high. Cruise me blond, cruise me babe. A blond belief beyond, beyond, beyond.
Baby Grace is the victim. She was fourteen years of age. And the wheels are turning, turning. For the finger points at me. . All's well. (Eee eee). (But I have not been to Oxford town).