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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 11-June 06:43:43 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 86143
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Last Chance My ***
[time] => 2005-03-01 19:20:06
[hometext] => self explanitory
[bodytext] => Allergic to the smoke, It helps me make it through, But helps me very little With smoke put forth from you.... You claim to want life clean, You claim to care for me, But lies are piling up And very soon you'll see.... The crap you do is wrong, You're living on a rail, I won't be there to help you When you wind up back in jail.... They planted that stuff on you? Say it till you believe, But I won't hear a word Cause from it you just won't leave.... So do whatever you wish, Claim as you want to claim, When **** goes through the roof I won't hold any blaim. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 169 [topic] => 51 [informant] => gimpie [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Event )
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