He stole my wings.
He took me very deep.
I remember,
walking down the street.
How he used to smile to me.
Now the wind whisper his song.
And I'm singing it all alone.
There's no place for love in his cold heart.
I remember his face making me laugh again.
And like CinderellaI will wait, to the end.
domingo, 25 de abril de 2010
A Cinderella Story
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