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im here to listen
im here to listen
bread was bread, until it becomes something else.
im here to listen
mother, you fold my clothes and i am fourteen again.
peels you an orange
the flower is just about to fruit.
the flower is just about to fruit.
bread was bread, until it becomes something else.
when the memory we carry comes close
bread was bread, until it becomes something else.
mother, you fold my clothes and i am fourteen again.
mother, you fold my clothes and i am fourteen again.
persimmons
peels you an orange
bread was bread, until it becomes something else.
peels you an orange