Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Number Six
On this day when thou wert born,
The angels sing and sound the horn,
The sun shines bright, the sky is clear,
I wish I could buy you a beer.
Alas! Alas, dear friend o' mine,
We shall not share a frothy stein,
For here am I, and there you are,
But happy birthday from afar.
The angels sing and sound the horn,
The sun shines bright, the sky is clear,
I wish I could buy you a beer.
Alas! Alas, dear friend o' mine,
We shall not share a frothy stein,
For here am I, and there you are,
But happy birthday from afar.
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Thomas needs to leave people alone.
yeah thomas, go away.
CREDIT THIS! (imagine my butt hanging out my pants)
Thomas. Gone.