I take the wheelbarrow out and take her shovel for her, hanging it up with mine. Taking my jacket off, I hesitate before taking my shirt off and wiping my face with it. The tattoo of a flaming bird shows on my bicep, and I don't attempt to hide it.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I glance at the house and look back at her, "Let's change before we go riding. I don't necessarily want to do it shirtless, not that I have anything to be ashamed of...but you know."
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I nod and head back to the house. Once in my room, I slip a shirt on but leave my jacket. I head back to the stables and take a saddle, walking out to one of the horses.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
The most important service rendered by the press and the magazines is that of educating people to approach printed matter with distrust. — Samuel Butler