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‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
"Devil, " you call me But seems to be enjoying The fruits of my labour that came to me too young When he stole my virtue I'm glad it seems to serve you That I was born a daughter and not a son For if I'm going down I guess I'll take you with me Screaming birds sound an awful lot like singing And I will tell you now That I'm not even singing There's no escape for some
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
✩•̩̩͙*ೃ˚.˚ (𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫 𝔗𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫)˚.*ೃ
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