3 acessos
Today i have a thirst.
A thirst that can't be quenched.
The fizz they've canned
It moulds esteem with predjudice
That fools us into leisure lents
I'm lost for words between the foes
Some many choices cloned of coke
Help me understand it and not fear the loom.
It's time to boil and study tiles.
A rushed and flakey lack of style.
It's kind to you and me.
The colour so scanty.
Chide cola for it rots the teeth-we know.