One tenth of her. I feel her talking thru my stand-up hairs. Which of you, or does he touch them, or is he daft. It`s hard boys. Alone and old, it`s really like her, it wears her clothes, I might be, I might be. But you`re not me and you don`t know I`m back in the mine. Don`t be afraid my love for you to die. It stands its ground as i stand mine. The ex-flesh of the temperature, I`m just as beautiful as your light allows.
