by zebrasindenver
What an evil hand it is that directs me into your arms,
what a blackened soul it must be to laugh as i lay upon your breast,
and such a horrid sensation is this desire of mine to want this.
What an evil hand it is that directs me into your arms,
what a blackened soul it must be to laugh as i lay upon your breast,
and such a horrid sensation is this desire of mine to want this.