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“Twirling the breeze like it's cotton candy, I'm not the one they marry- Every thirsty Thursday and drowned Sunday, I collect them all and carry The gypsy heart is too romanticized; Whispers that scream down your spine Never the Hellfire pain that's advertised, only dancing with the wine” — Casey Renee Kiser
Twirling the breeze like it's cotton candy,
I'm not the one they marry-
Every thirsty Thursday and drowned Sunday,
I collect them all and carry
The gypsy heart is too romanticized;
Whispers that scream down your spine
Never the Hellfire pain that's advertised,
only dancing with the wine