(no subject)
And she says give me one good reason not to empty the heart of all its zeros and ones,
not to smash that telecaster before it births a thousand useless slums.
Love bit you in the throat while you were staring at the sea.
All the girls in Montreal are smashing skateboards in the street.
It's 4 a.m. and she's at your door with a suitcase, in a nightgown.
We slip through mansions with fences full-grown.
We slip through streetlights in crooked rows.
I saw the sky split in two: one half jealous and one half cruel.
I felt my chest cave in under a pile of synthetic grins.
The fields are Day-Glo under sobbing rainbows dragged through filthy thoughts,
not to smash that telecaster before it births a thousand useless slums.
Love bit you in the throat while you were staring at the sea.
All the girls in Montreal are smashing skateboards in the street.
It's 4 a.m. and she's at your door with a suitcase, in a nightgown.
We slip through mansions with fences full-grown.
We slip through streetlights in crooked rows.
I saw the sky split in two: one half jealous and one half cruel.
I felt my chest cave in under a pile of synthetic grins.
The fields are Day-Glo under sobbing rainbows dragged through filthy thoughts,