IRC-Galleria

I've been here so long; think that its time to move

The winter's so cold summer's over too soon

so let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow

I've got some friends, some that I hardly know

But we've had some times I wouldn't trade for the world

We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go

If love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand.