He loves Hindi songs.
Just like you.
He hates injections.
Just like you.
He cried each time Amitabh died.
Just like you.
He’s been in love once or twice.
Just like you.
He’ll bleed if you cut him.
Just like you.
He’s happiest at home.
Just like you.
He loves the smell of rain on sun scorched earth.
Just like you.
He cheered India at old Trafford.
Just like you.
He dreams for his children.
Just like you.
He’s gone to die for a stranger.
And that stranger is you.
- Copied from the Internet.
Just like you.
He hates injections.
Just like you.
He cried each time Amitabh died.
Just like you.
He’s been in love once or twice.
Just like you.
He’ll bleed if you cut him.
Just like you.
He’s happiest at home.
Just like you.
He loves the smell of rain on sun scorched earth.
Just like you.
He cheered India at old Trafford.
Just like you.
He dreams for his children.
Just like you.
He’s gone to die for a stranger.
And that stranger is you.
- Copied from the Internet.
No comments:
Post a Comment