MORRISSEY TICKETS MORRISSEY TICKETS MORRISSEY TICKETS
I’m a thinker, not a talker.
Two lovers look for a cab. Her stomach is bare, a stimulating sight for everybody ‘cept the significant other. They twirl in the wind, a wind that would have carried mighty holy sands one day, not so long ago. A Japanese imported car stops and they hop in. A stimulating sight for everyone but the one who’s left behind. My teeth are covered in sawdust, chewing on sawdust. A stimulating sight for nobody.
Cada día te quiero más, pastito
Maleta de loca
100 patacones a quien me pueda explicar qué hace Lisa con ese italiano desagradable.