Aaliyah Biot Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Marseille

Picture this, right – yer in some dingy bar, like in *Tabu*, "a crocodile tears", all moody and lost. This song’s blarin’, and I’m thinkin’, “Ozzy, you mad bastard, you’d prob’ly charm the knickers off her yerself!” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d give it a whirl, haha! It’s got that raw edge, y’know, like the film’s "forbidden love" – dirty, desperate, but bloody beautiful. Makes me wanna howl at the moon, mate.

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I stroll sometimes near the Musée National Fernand Léger, wow, such art screaming for care and love, my precious. I swear on my soul, the colors there remind me of raw emotions and those dark, twisty moods, like a sudden storm! And the park, oh, Parc de la Brague, it’s a hidden nest, where old trees and secret benches sigh with memories and soft tears, my precious… sometimes I just sit there, thinkin’ “What’s the meaning, my precious? What’s the meaning?”

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