Next Entry
Previous Entry
Sign my guestbook
My Profile
Archives 2001-12-11 - 2:31 a.m.


Everyday,
I wake up in my bed by myself.

Everyway,
I crawl into my little shell.

Everyday,
Success is all in my style.

Everyway,
My smokes have all gotten stale.

My eyes focus on you
What did you make me do?

So why am I here?
What do you want from me, dear?

(Play some piano.)

E-Mail Me
Back to Diaryland















* Yes, I designed and built this page with my own two hands.
Copy the code if you must, but please give me some credit.
(Because the Credit Card company won't.)