2 August 2007

Fernanda Fabiola Urzúa



She's got eyes of the bluest skies
As if they thought of rain
I hate to look into those eyes
And see an ounce of pain
Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place
Where as a child I'd hide
And pray for the thunder
And the rain
To quietly pass me by


Sweet child o' mine
Sweet love of mine

Where do we go
Where do we go now
Where do we go
Sweet child o' mine


Su muerte no servirá para nada, este post tampoco, solo pretendo hacerle un pequeño homenaje a esta muerte absurda.


Guns N' Roses - Sweet Child O' Mine

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