it's like a bra, that doesn't hold your tits.

I won't sing your algebra.
I won't sing anything, oh.
I won't sing your alphabet.
I won't sing anything, oh.
I won't sing hilarious, as I hum.
I hum, I hum, a-ha.

I probably shouldn't have dosed it.

A cathedral sick of the sky again.
I'll tell you what I mean by that, maybe not in seconds flat, maybe not today. (probably never)

Your pop culture descriptions make me want to fucking barf, by the way.
It's not real. It's all everything you motherfuckers see on the outside and quite frankly, I'm sick of it.
When you learn what real writing is, call me and we can maybe talk.
But probably not, because at that point you will have used up all your goddamn excuses and all your fake cries for wolf.

How many more times can i tell you?
How many more times can i pick up my telephone?
How many more times can I avoid phone calls from bill collectors?
How many more times can I get by without paying rent?
?

THIS IS FUCKING FOREVER.
I always said this song would be the one.
The one who wouldn't save me.
I was wrong about it, the first time I felt anything.
Are you sitting down?




You've been here for 13 minutes and I want you to fucking leave.
I'm pushing everything good out of my life.
I can't be reminded.


I'm going to find my old rock before anything serious happens.
I need to say goodbye, I never got a chance to.
Just couldn't get things right.