PRAYERLILTING
o you that are but
a blonde figment in
the dust of my tired
arena, i hear the
dark ponies bringing
me memories of your
locks wet and brittle;
the Sun knifing my
guilt like a prayer
PRAYERLILTING
o you that are but
a blonde figment in
the dust of my tired
arena, i hear the
dark ponies bringing
me memories of your
locks wet and brittle;
the Sun knifing my
guilt like a prayer