Written by chuck jackson and marvin yancy. Hmm..., well, well, well, well, well. The mailman smiled as he handed me the news, tell you chil'. I nearly jumped out of my shoes, the postcard read returning home tonight.
Your fingertips, your fingertips. . Sometimes, I feel it burning. That deep and primal yearning. I feel it burn, burn, burning. I try to live without it.