When we were young life was so unjust. At times I felt it was just us. Momma workin' hard to put food on the table. All on her own she sacrificed. Even when my sisters and brothers died.
Anything we should know about your change?. How long has it been, shall we get into it again?. Excuse, our disgrace we've had no time to paint the place.
Misery is all we know lately. Saturdays are all the same. Sympathy is overrated. Like a snapshot when you've lost the game. . Now it's all the funeral.