Our Time Down Here
7th october 1984
âI miss whispering down the phone, now my hands cold to the touch. I must go before the floods rush in again, youâre happier when you donât see me much.
Our star was out, alone all by itself.â
âI miss whispering down the phone, now my hands cold to the touch. I must go before the floods rush in again, youâre happier when you donât see me much.
Our star was out, alone all by itself.â