If I surely would give my live to you take me in your arms and lie to me tell me it's not always going to be like this the world is surely the coldest place-there's a storm inside my house, raging and relentless, wind tearing at the rafters, howling through the timbers-hard stingin rain. falling in and falling down, hope this storm doesn't rip my roof off-my skin keeps the storm inside
Writer(s): Henry Rollins, Dennes Dale Boon
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