Oct 30, 2003 16:01
To hell with holiday romantics. December is for cynics. December is for critics.
Waiting by the phone is killing me. Knuckles white, I'm down to fight. I'm not humored easily. Scars and wounds. Heart attacks and liars. How long can you fake it?
So much for your good intentions and not to mention postcards from places I've never even heard of. I hope it's fun out there where the wind is warm and water turns to wine. Keep my plane ticket under your pillow, I'll catch the first flight when school's out.