What do you do when you’re stuck,
Because the one that you love,
Has pushed you away,
And you can’t deal with the pain,
And now you’re trying to fix me,
Mend what he did,
I’ll find the piece that i’m missing,
But I still miss him,
I miss him, i’m missing him,
Oh I miss him, I miss him i’m missng him
And you’re sitting in the front row,
Wana be first in line,
Waiting by my window,
Giving me all your time,
You could be my hero,
If only I could let go,
But his love has still hit me,
Like a broken arrow.
Like a broken arrow.
He’s the thorn in my flesh
That I can’t take out
He’s stealing my breath
When you’re around,
And now you’re trying to convince me,
He wasn’t worth it,
But you can’t complete me,
It’s the thought that he’s missing,
I miss him, I’m missing him,
Oh I miss him I miss him, i’m missing him,
And you’re standing in the front row,
Wana be first in line
Waiting by my window,
Giving me all your time,
You could be my hero,
If only I could let go,
But his love has still hit me,
Live a broken arrow,
Like a broken arrow.
What do you do
When your hearts in two places?
You feel great but you’re torn inside.
You feel love but you just can’t embrace it,
When you found the right one at the wrong time.
And you’re
Standing in the front row,
Wanna be first in line,
Waiting by my window,
Giving me all your time,
You could be my hero,
If only I could let go,
But his love still hit me,
Like a broken arrow.
Like a broken arrow…
I have a photographer! HAHA.
Wrinkles. -.-
Thanks for the funny pictures sang! :))
You put your arms around me and I’m home.
Find me now. Before someone else does.
(via yellowkittyyy)
Source: quote-book
Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats – the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill – The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it – and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the hobbit: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (he had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden, and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.
(via fellowshipoftheringers)
Source: thecityofpaper
Always between the lines.
