like gold in the sun... but it would still yield to our swords and spears, no matter how it sparkled. The Roman scoundrel, Governor Suetonius Paullinus
Sad and lifeless, red and cruel Ask myself "Can I fight this?" Hangman standing in my room Telling me jokes again Nineteen, he was handsome A ray farmer spreading sun
't mean to be bitter But I'll hurt if you call Telling me you landed on your feet, after all Now your bedroom eyes are looking tired My baby has your sparkle