[cell post]Received 03/17/2007 02:23 from from echo <chosen_echo [at] yahoo [dot] com>

Sometimes It Snows So Hard

I Walk On Concrete, I Walk On Sinks. But I Can't Find A Safe Place To Think. //-+-//x Replaced Lyrics touched out from a different blue room. As El Gato [es muy grande] gazes at this, the drain, and other actux things. This one goes out to TBN across the street.