
I burned my finger on a lie
I don’t know if it was yours or mine
looking at my finger
I now know
but it still hurts
after all these days
I burned my finger on a lie
I don’t know if it was yours or mine
looking at my finger
I now know
but it still hurts
after all these days
Vincent Van Gogh
Words are only painted fire; a look is the fire itself.
Mark Twain