. . . . n o t e v e r y o n e w i l l g e t t h i s . . .
Like a fly trapped in a bottle of shadows.
The blackness! The end! Where are we sleeping tonight, Mother? In Father's Grave!
They tap at my window with tiny paws
. . . . n o t e v e r y o n e w i l l g e t t h i s . . .
Like a fly trapped in a bottle of shadows.
The blackness! The end! Where are we sleeping tonight, Mother? In Father's Grave!
They tap at my window with tiny paws
. . . . n o t e v e r y o n e w i l l g e t t h i s . . .