Comments about Frances Pritchard
Walls crumble and maybe it's cold,
But I can't feel without you.
Make them cry and get them told,
But I can't speak without you.
Glass pressing hard and I pour out red,
But I can't cry without you.
Touch like fire, I hold in bed,
But I can't be free without you.
Lips on mine and fingers that burn,
But I can't love without you.
I'm still in you and you're still in me,
Yet I can't breathe without you.