Pokemon Red On My Mac

The haunt is the haunt ...

Since childhood, the haunt is the lair. And finally, coming sooner or later. What we see, what we hear, what we feel, what we sense, the images we hold ... we hide behind the doors and steal the moments, and then try to imitate adults. They are our little god. And we look to haunt them. Here I bring you the story of a slide in morning while listening to a parent pasodobles shaved and grabbed the door when the child is dressed with the types stored in a closet for your little gods, which will make many times the roads ... and yes it's true that things are carried in the blood, because I not be of Cadiz, without being born among you, I have felt and seen my children humming the songs I usually sing badly. And I have been told that not only do at home, but they do on the street and at school, with friends and colleagues. I have been enjoying a good pasodoble. I've seen them laugh with a good joke. I've seen mourn the laughter with the grace and ingenuity of the odd quartet. And se, that it transmitted to their children tomorrow. Because the lair lair ...

you cherish an image
was a day ago while I was shaving



sang a paso doble I hid behind the door

stealing every moment to sing on the patio in the courtyard


school I wore your dress to imitate

you were an artist
pa mi
One day of the framers of the senators
another man of the sea
fabulist

Since that night I wanted to be blessed
comparsa! I wanted to be comparsa
!

Today I ask pardon for being a carnival

spend half my life by giving her poems to
the girl I love most!

Today I ask pardon
to fight with my troupe to bring the banner

that my father is not any
that came with Paco Alba!

This letter is for all those old men whose lives
those
dressed up and gave us a present, future and past
I said that it's in our blood

Well, I've been told my child at school
sing song as his father sang sang
like his grandfather!