Dominic Riccitello
May 8, 2014

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no time to kill guns up, spill fast with just enough crass moving like hell no tell, laugh as you whistle your tune your blues, the way you love you wrinkles of age thoughts for the day promise, agree you can’t keep this we know standing small without the bow a child, you ask take your brass, i’ll take my gold put you on hold and tell them well isn’t he bold we’ll always know how the story goes the flames that thrive the sadness you take the way you can’t wait for the day the flames take and death becomes the last goodbye