Another day of ugly smoke.
Another day, when I awoke.
Where is the love to see,
when we approach our history?
I tire of these words today,
hoping life is good, I say
find another to write about.
I'll find my own way out.
Another day of ugly smoke.
Another day, when I awoke.
Where is the love to see,
when we approach our history?
I tire of these words today,
hoping life is good, I say
find another to write about.
I'll find my own way out.