I had always believe I’d die young. Was it the booze? I had always believe I’d die young. Was it the booze?

Coming down the stairs Wearing nothing but my skin. Coming down the stairs Wearing nothing but my skin.

Sweet words that I everyday arrange In the note pad with light. Sweet words that I everyday arrange In the note pad with light.

The poem describes the unpublished book of a dead author. The poem describes the unpublished book of a dead author.

Next seven years Filled with ups and downs But then my hard work Earned me a crown 'Harr... Next seven years Filled with ups and downs But then my hard work Earned...

I write to you to say that I have graduated to the ways of love. I write to you to let you know t... I write to you to say that I have graduated to the ways of love. I write to y...