Mr. Saint Peter

I’m knocking and knocking at your door.
You’re just too drunk
And you’re passed out on the floor.
I left my sins outside,
I hope you keep the score,
And I have nothing left to hide.
You know my guilts and all of my goods,
You have the key and you prepared my room.
Please, Mr. Saint Peter, don’t send me back into the woods.

Lasă un răspuns

Acest site folosește Akismet pentru a reduce spamul. Află cum sunt procesate datele comentariilor tale.