you'll never find another sweet little girl with sequined sea foam eyes ocean lapping voice, smile coy as the brightest quiet span of sky and you're all alone again tonight; not again, not again, not again. and don't it feel alright, and don't it feel so nice? lovely.
you'll never find another sweet little girl with sequined sea foam eyes ocean lapping voice, smile coy as the brightest quiet span of sky and you're all alone again tonight; not again, not again, not again. and don't it feel alright, and don't it feel so nice? lovely.
'This must be Thursday,' said Arthur to himself, sinking low over his beer. 'I never could get the hang of Thursdays.' — Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
