If Wishes Were Horses, More Beggars Would Ride Them
by The Chariot· from Everything is alive, Everything is breathing, Noth
A bullet to the sun. Erase everything we have done. Please, like a thief, won't you come? Put an end to all of this fun. I will see you in a Broadway year, a New York second, a Wall Street minute, a Hollywood moment. This is it. Why does not, this world just stop?