(no subject)
staring into the intersection, she thinks that she can fly and she might. holding on in a new direction, she's gonna try it tonight. the closer i get to feeling, the further that i'm feeling from alright. the more i step into the sun, the more i step out of the light. jessica is covered in a blanket on a sunday porch. thinking of the weekends she would party in the city. she doesn't have a flame, she'd prefer to burn out like a torch. if she gets nowhere in life, at least she know's she pretty. she said, "hey, now, the straw dog's out in the street! hey now, there's chemicals in the clouds! hey now, they're calling the police. they won't get to us, anyhow." the moon is shining now and shadows are what's left of all the noise. simple silhouettes and cutouts as if we had the choice. he listens closely now, swears that he can hear a voice that's calling him and saying "hey, now, the straw dog's out in the street! hey now, there's chemicals in the clouds hey now, they're calling the police. they won't get to us, anyhow." what does it take to be a superhero in our world? make no mistake that these villains always get the girl. we can escape, and then we'd skate away from all of this and no one ever does. she's saying "hey, now, the straw dog's out in the street! hey now, there's chemicals in the clouds hey now, they're calling the police. they won't get to us, anyhow."