I can still feel the chill. Sitting on the bench, alone, in that dark lonely night, thinking I would never make it out alive, or sane. Wishing to never see the morning again, or a way to forget everything.
I can still feel the chill. Sitting on the bench, alone, in that dark lonely night, thinking I would never make it out alive, or sane. Wishing to never see the morning again, or a way to forget everything.