Late
It’s getting late but I can’t sleep
the wind is raging through the trees
I don’t know what I’m afraid of but it’s giving me the creeps.
When I sleep I have a dream and every dream becomes a nightmare
and I try to run away but I still feel haunted everywhere
upon the highest mountains or across the largest seas
This is just way over my head or I am in it way to deep.
the wind is raging through the trees
I don’t know what I’m afraid of but it’s giving me the creeps.
When I sleep I have a dream and every dream becomes a nightmare
and I try to run away but I still feel haunted everywhere
upon the highest mountains or across the largest seas
This is just way over my head or I am in it way to deep.
Reacties op dit gedicht
| sleepless: | Maandag, september 09, 2002 11:18 |
| Sounds familiar... Get the fear, before it gets you. Groeten. |
|
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: Petite Anette | 
|
|
| Gecontroleerd door: Pieps | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 08 september 2002 | ||
| Thema's: | ||