I daydream of the day when all of this madness ceases
When the chaotic war of sticks and stones
Quits leaving its creases
In the foreheads of those who know
That those sticks and stones may break these bones
But words will always hurt me.
I daydream of the day when all of this madness ceases
When the chaotic war of sticks and stones
Quits leaving its creases
In the foreheads of those who know
That those sticks and stones may break these bones
But words will always hurt me.