Une Chanson


Yeah yeah, microphone check, 1, 2, 3
In the place to be,
It is I, the R-K-A-D-E,
Dropping poems on your telephone
And it goes a little like this:

The tears of a clown make the whole world laugh; hee hee

And on that note, man, just give me a call, alright?
Peace

End of message

People fly







Captcha