Monday, 3 September 2012

Rags And Old Iron

So I asked that old rag man how much he would pay 
For a heart that was broken, baby, when you went away.
For a burnt out old love light that no longer beams 
And a couple of slightly used second hand dreams.
 Rags and old iron, rags and old iron.
All he was buying was just rags and old iron.


 

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¡Habla, pueblo de Aura!