Gallant
Oh, Universe
I was a pauper
Fickle and bruised
Wishing I could atomize these lonely lunar views
But with thorns in my ankles
And rocks in my shoes
I weather through
I was a pauper
Fickle and bruised
Wishing I could atomize these lonely lunar views
But with thorns in my ankles
And rocks in my shoes
I weather through