Isabella, Isabella, don't you turn me down. I've been knockin' on the front door. Of my very own house. . Isabella, Isabella. Don't treat me like I'm dead and gone.
It might have been some other story. Our book must have been bought used. 'cause it was missing all the late chapters. They were gone with the liberty that everybody loves to abuse.
Hollow body bones and shoes. You can never get back what you lose. When will I stop crying. When will I stop crying. Oh my dear, I know too well. When I am in my grave.