I can't break away from this parade
This place is always such a mess
Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn.
This song is either called Cinderella or One Headlight. Google fails me once again.
My fingertips and hair smell like cigarettes, and the stench burns my eyes like a mother fucker. Tomorrow is my last day of summer school economics and sunday I leave for the one place I feel I belong. NYC fo sho. Colleges there are expensive, my mother nags. Shoot me.
She died easy of a broken heart disease.
nothing is forever.