http://www.halfpastfour.com

Through beloved town Reagrdless of weather

From Up to Down From Us to Now

Regardless of time of the year every night hourly

So once in spring or maybe wintertime

I left my place, having few bucks

And i see - climbing slowly up the hill

The Bus, Number Seven, and its me on the bus

Subscribe to mailing list:

Sign Up

HALF PAST FOUR: Rabbit in the Vestibule