What Would I Say?
What would I say? Twelve months have gone three times, Swirling ’round what could’ve been, Still I dream within the shadows, Of a love than won’t grow thin. If today
What would I say? Twelve months have gone three times, Swirling ’round what could’ve been, Still I dream within the shadows, Of a love than won’t grow thin. If today
“Happy Good Friday.” Those words always made me cringe and recoil in horror. This hasn’t changed over the years. They had the exact same effect on me this morning as