I look at the meteor, miss universe, he is a Gypsy Paddock in a cold, we had a horse bolt with slot I already had in the warm earth First Name Last Name And I lost my old companions, I was lonely I want to tell him that once small warehouse pit copper brazier We also hand-baked songs off the wine - It is the Earth's sun, all the heat And why when near to the cold, away from the counter when the warm, and I was deeply puzzled