David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
David F. Bello
With my fingers on half of your face
Let's take a walk and get out of my place
It's a little like talking to kids
Shame on everyone who knows about this
You think it's just fucking fine to appear
Taking notes on my mental unrest
Keeping all of these numbers up here
Is like finding lumps at the heart of your breast
Don't you think I know this?
Don't you think I know what you're doing here?
I Know This was written by David F. Bello.