M. Hutchence rests not.
His soul is no longer bound by this shell of flesh, dreamed on by the minds of past present and future, all pickled up with poetic blurs of dizzy eyes. to stare is not to wish but to evolve !
..are you gonna wake again...
---E.J.C.,Jr.
His soul is no longer bound by this shell of flesh, dreamed on by the minds of past present and future, all pickled up with poetic blurs of dizzy eyes. to stare is not to wish but to evolve !
..are you gonna wake again...
---E.J.C.,Jr.