my ticking clock hiding her face.
every cell, every pore of me, is screaming out in some sort of dullened pain.
not for any ill do it again reason either. it was barras birthday saturday.
when nights turn to mornings and you find urself crawling thru kings cross station,
just hold ur breath until you pass out and vanish forever.
coz scotch by the bottle doesnt repair any war wounds trust me.
i mean yeah we laughed and touched the nights sky,
but now im crying like the life out of breath i am :]
finding myself addicted to staring aimless at objects,
waking out of it to wonder what the f**k put me there in the first place.
oh i have to be at the airport at 6am, by 8 ill be back in sydney again.
i dont know what to watch til then.
not for any ill do it again reason either. it was barras birthday saturday.
when nights turn to mornings and you find urself crawling thru kings cross station,
just hold ur breath until you pass out and vanish forever.
coz scotch by the bottle doesnt repair any war wounds trust me.
i mean yeah we laughed and touched the nights sky,
but now im crying like the life out of breath i am :]
finding myself addicted to staring aimless at objects,
waking out of it to wonder what the f**k put me there in the first place.
oh i have to be at the airport at 6am, by 8 ill be back in sydney again.
i dont know what to watch til then.