Mudanças….
Tempo que passa…
Cresce-se, muda-se….
Tempo em que se sorri,
tempo em que se chora.
O tempo passa, voa,
mas nada se mantêm…
“Cut that little child, inside of me and such a part of you…I used to be a little boy so old in my shoes. And what I choose is my choice, what’s a boy supposed to do?”
“Cut that little child, inside of me and such a part of you…I used to be a little boy so old in my shoes. And what I choose is my choice, what’s a boy supposed to do?”
