... a denial, to baptise some of my thoughts into reason.
Your oath is safe with me, anyway.
I try to believe it's mutual.
As mutual as a kiss.
As red as blood.
As true as we are.
As old as our past.
Well, I tend to think that these six letters are somehow tattooed on me.
The last letter is a ''v''.
The first, a ''d''.
And so it goes, with a lot of ''but's'' and a lot of ''don'ts''.
I won't keep those ugly words for me.
Those who explain what's right and what's not.
If I could tell, if they would let me say, and have, what's good for me. ...