William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
William Fitzsimmons
How long should I hold to the hope
That I'm still in your heart?
When should I concede that the best of my years were apart
From you?
I'd swim half an ocean to see how it feels
In your arms
I read into every reflection I pass for the part
From you
And I will look for you
Till they put us both back in the ground
And I will call for you
Would you recognize the young boy
That you kept for a day?
I wonder how much regret that they kept me away
From you
And I will look for you
Till they put us both back in the ground
And I will call for you
Till my throat cannot make a sound