Not exact matches
I could understand the good if the man simply noticed my
tired, swollen, dirty feet and,
out of sympathy and kindness,
poured some nice cold water over them.
To moan about Wenger is like running over to a car with smoke
pouring out of the engine and say it failed to win a race due to bald
tires.
Tired of going
out to dim lit bars and
pouring your hard earned cash into drink for women that don't look quite the same in the light
of the morning?
There is green fluid that came
pouring out from the bottom
of my car up by the driver side
tire.