♥s like bones, cracking under our feet. (je suis électric, et je veux pas dance que.)
i wrote that to little pieces of tape and we sticked those tapes on to our jeans. it's -13 celcius degrees out there and i am still walking with my shitty all stars, i think i'm going to get sick to death. but how nice does the ice cracking under your feet sound.
last spring before muse gig in helsinki we were at kiasma, the museum of modern art. this pretty cleaning lady thought that we had a performace cos we acted silly and we put too much electric blue/tourgoise eyeshadow. isn't it nice to be considered as a piece of art? on the way from kiasma to nosturi (the club they played at) we lost our andy warhol pin (that we had bought from museum shop) & i'm sure to tell you that some one found it and sent it to tukru. it was that time around she got it, you know.
she? ignore all the pain and the suffer she causes to me, & i love her. everytime her sharp biting tongue goes threw my heart it leaves deep wounds. hearts can't crack, she says. but they do, they do. allways one with fight; you kiss me ones or twice, and everything's forgotten. you know i hate that.
ps. would you aproove 'i'm gonna dance' single as a trade for kersa x 3? (it was 29kr.)