Trickle
I feel like I am in a fickle
Trickle
Trickle
All the snow is coming down
Every trickle
That feels just like another fickle.
YOU ARE READING
The story about a girl and her name is: Euphony.
ПоэзияThe girl began to write a song She name it the impossible dream But then it became a story and now a new dream Not one of love But one of the future You could almost say she began to call herself Euphony, the lover of all that is good music.
Trickle, Trickle, why not a fickle?
Trickle
I feel like I am in a fickle
Trickle
Trickle
All the snow is coming down
Every trickle
That feels just like another fickle.
