Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash
There’s a hole in my pants, and I don’t know why
When I think about it, I want to cry
How long it was there I can’t remember
Unknown ‘til the chill of December
Breezed through this opened second fly.
1
Share
There’s a hole in my pants, and I don’t know why
When I think about it, I want to cry
How long it was there I can’t remember
Unknown ‘til the chill of December
Breezed through this opened second fly.
Comments
Lauren Triola is not accepting comments at the moment
Want to show your support? Become a pledged subscriber or send them a one-off tip.