Whitney

When did he say you must, was it going to sing, echoing words of my son, loves the house of soul, among other things, but never went alone, in the City life comes first, clothes always need ironing, cling to him like dirt, he never crawls, trusts every living being, writing songs his goal, his Daddy blows a kiss, whenever he did anything, the judge did not miss, says he knows the score, doesn’t stop to think, on a back alley scrawl, my boy is dying.