I heard you knapping by my cave door
I love you baby can I have some more
A lone fur-clad stranger, handaxe slung on a rawhide tether from his hip, peered back, squinted eyes set deeply below a solid brow. Nobody had expected Flint Eastwood.
I heard you knapping by my cave door
I love you baby can I have some more
A lone fur-clad stranger, handaxe slung on a rawhide tether from his hip, peered back, squinted eyes set deeply below a solid brow. Nobody had expected Flint Eastwood.