Your wealth made from rags, from nothing into something grand-That Jeff guy
You promise them they'll live in castles wooing men from far off lands
They raise you up like a God unto your tiny little stand
Until their faith once like a rock is ground up turning into sand
They scour the earth for the things they saw in your tiny little hands
You see they're old enough to dream but just to young to understand
Gabriella, was this all part of your plan?
What I meant to write yesterday
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1 comment:
han jeff gör mig nyfiken.. orkar du mejla över ett par låtar nån dag?
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