2Am and love sick
Im on this couch in this cold apartment, wide awake and vaguely stoned listening to the guy upstairs play his guitar and sing. Its lovely, he doesnt think anyone is listening because its so late but I hear him.
I'm thinking about this era. The era of the death of romance.
The reading lamp is the only light on and my book is laying upside down in my lap and I feel completely meaningless.
I still want a cigarette and to touch this mysterious mystery with my idle hands.
I'm thinking about this era. The era of the death of romance.
The reading lamp is the only light on and my book is laying upside down in my lap and I feel completely meaningless.
I still want a cigarette and to touch this mysterious mystery with my idle hands.