A self-satirical train wreck that you can witness word by word...
And for those who doubt my son Armand Bovoso, indeed he is part Black. I'm Black and Italian. Armand is Black, italian, and Ukranian Jewish. Send me an email if you can't accept this.
And for those who doubt my son Armand Bovoso, indeed he is part Black. I'm Black and Italian. Armand is Black, italian, and Ukranian Jewish. Send me an email if you can't accept this.
How much I can miss you because
You're not here
The house doesn't have your smell
The bed's too big
It is
Quiet
The peace becomes a prison
Without you to argue with the conversations become held
With myself
Despite the odds given
Just the same
I am doing well
But I will always miss you
Knowing that you can never come home
You're not here
The house doesn't have your smell
The bed's too big
It is
Quiet
The peace becomes a prison
Without you to argue with the conversations become held
With myself
Despite the odds given
Just the same
I am doing well
But I will always miss you
Knowing that you can never come home
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