Smoke in my hair
I want smoke in my hair, music on my tongue, clouds under my fingernails. I want the sun on the tip of my nose after a long, dark winter. I want the whispering trees to tell me that my jokes are alright.
I want smoke in my hair, music on my tongue, clouds under my fingernails. I want the sun on the tip of my nose after a long, dark winter. I want the whispering trees to tell me that my jokes are alright.