buried drugs
A silver mirror kept in my room,
showcasing everything in an impartial way,
It lits everything with it's silver gloom,
when it gets hit by the golden sun ray.
From a distance,
the incessant chant of monsoon from south west,
sounds like an old witch practising her craft,
Oh, is it because am a teenager who wants...
showcasing everything in an impartial way,
It lits everything with it's silver gloom,
when it gets hit by the golden sun ray.
From a distance,
the incessant chant of monsoon from south west,
sounds like an old witch practising her craft,
Oh, is it because am a teenager who wants...