And you say you love me but I think it must be the way the ice loves the rainy winter roads:
Coldly and stiflingly, with an unwanted sort of slipperiness to your smile.
I fear the ditch waiting for me to skid off the road.
And you say you love me but I think it must be the way the ice loves the rainy winter roads:
Coldly and stiflingly, with an unwanted sort of slipperiness to your smile.
I fear the ditch waiting for me to skid off the road.