Nothing sensible is happenign these days,
the handwriting has lost its charm,
the lines are not even straight,
words don't seem to form meanings,
even when all has been arranged.
The nose has ben flowing incessantly
the head is jammed with cough,
steams and tablets don't camphor anymore,
a woman is singing about glue,
to stick love, I don't know why,
even when all had been arranged.
the handwriting has lost its charm,
the lines are not even straight,
words don't seem to form meanings,
even when all has been arranged.
The nose has ben flowing incessantly
the head is jammed with cough,
steams and tablets don't camphor anymore,
a woman is singing about glue,
to stick love, I don't know why,
even when all had been arranged.
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