Rifle through your desk From a hundred yards away, Camouflaged in pigeon shit, High on the tower of brotherly love. A hopeless romantic, Cupid's arrow seeds itself in splintered Mahogany.
Rifle through your desk From a hundred yards away, Camouflaged in pigeon shit, High on the tower of brotherly love. A hopeless romantic, Cupid's arrow seeds itself in splintered Mahogany.