Then there was that time I died onstage in Montreal...
Her golden tresses shade / The bosom's stainless pride, / Curling like tendrils of the parasite / Around a marble column.
His highness comes post from Marseilles,
With pleasure Argus the musician heeds.
Don't have an account? Sign up
Do you have an account? Login
DiQt
Free
★★★★★★★★★★