Graceful as a swan, ferocious
Oh! Heartbreak...plenty straining sighs of violins. Plenty of the mundane and all the incandescent moments that a family-time of idiosyncratic disorders can afford you. I'll fill beer bottles with my nosebleeds and I'll write letters to all my friends through the condensation on the windows surrounding me. A box built for windows - it seems. I must 'ave filled homes with my eyes. I must 'ave killed most of the time by killing 1/2 of what matters. I've gotten pretty tired of apologizing for nearly everything, but apologizing. I've gotten pretty tired of being second guessed. Combos, like fries and a drink, "Can you do this? Can you do this??" I can't stand how one thing can set the tone for anything negative. I don't want to become indifferent to you, I convinced myself I would, in the back seat. I'm just tired of worrying (whoever's fault that is) about everything. I'm tired of wondering what will fly. The dining dead. We both have a touch of defeatism that can be triggered by so many unseen indecipherable instances. As much as you sometimes pretend, I've never hated you. This is not an apology, I tried to show you a good time, but some situations arise because of the weather. I'll not apologize but still try to stop doing the things you dislike. "I hate your guts" is such a beautiful thing to say because sometimes we need what we dislike.
Number one is ! because it's the best expression.
Number one is ! because it's the best expression.