And every Sunday afternoon
You feel it hum beneath the tune
A low, unshakable monsoon
You canโt suspend
It never ends, it never ends
You chase the means, forget the ends
You scroll the war, you skim the sins
It never ends
#newmusic#indiemusic
https://t.co/2wUNdREbn1
The conversations were nothing, just moments gone. She packed up her hope, when nothing dragged on and on. https://t.co/KUhNnEGxhB When she say's 'It's nothing..." it's the story of their days.
@BGotOutOfLine The conversations were nothing, just moments gone. She packed up her hope, when nothing dragged on and on. https://t.co/KUhNnEGxhB When she say's 'It's nothing..." it's the story of their days.