Bokelskere.no

A young man of hardly twenty, his head full of nothing and his mouth recalling the taste of lipstick.

Nobody knew my rose of the world but me....I had too much glory. They don't want glory like that in nobody's heart.

Lonley, ain't it?

Yes. But my lonley is mine. Now your lonley is somebody else's. Made by somebody else and handed to you. Ain't that something? A secondhand lonley.