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He used to give me roses, I wish he could again; But that was on the outside, And things were different then. On the inside the sun still shines, And the rain falls down; But the sun and rain are prisoners too, When morning comes around. On the inside the roses grow; They don't mind the stoney ground; But the roses here are prisoners too, When morning comes around. http://i.imgur.com/2Uh0d1M.jpg Titter fucked around with this message at 13:14 on Sep 6, 2015 |
# ¿ Sep 6, 2015 13:11 |
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# ¿ Apr 29, 2024 08:38 |
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Whoa! Holy geisha paleface, Batman! Looks like someone might need make-up application classes to be conducted at their mens correctional facility.
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# ¿ Sep 6, 2015 14:43 |
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Fiend posted:Love , commitment, family, and forethought. Yeah, uhh, we're talking about people in prison here - it's pretty much a given that they've got zero of the highlighted. So that's no help at all.
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# ¿ Sep 6, 2015 15:37 |