When the skies are grey and all the doors are closing and the rising pressure makes it hard to breathe; when all I need is a hand to stop the tears from falling I will find him, will find him next to me.
Sunday 26 August 2012
You will find Him, you'll find Him next to me
When the skies are grey and all the doors are closing and the rising pressure makes it hard to breathe; when all I need is a hand to stop the tears from falling I will find him, will find him next to me.
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