Empty
Ray LaMontagne – Empty She lifts her skirt up to her knees Walks through the garden rows With her bare feet laughin’ I never learned to count my blessings I choose instead to dwell in my disasters.
Ray LaMontagne – Empty She lifts her skirt up to her knees Walks through the garden rows With her bare feet laughin’ I never learned to count my blessings I choose instead to dwell in my disasters.