Sunday, 15 April 2012

Sweet child O' mine

She's got eyes of the bluest skies
As if they thought of rain
I hate to look into those eyes
And see an ounce of pain
Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place
Where as a child I'd hide
And pray for the thunder
And the rain
To quietly pass me by

Sunday, 8 April 2012

Oooh la la!

...and with that, I've painted a dirty picture!