you just rolled your eyes...
my birthday was pretty much the worst thing ever. i was sick as shit and spent the whole day curled up in bed listening to lifetime going through 342525 tissues and a few hundred packs of soothers. the night before though my best friend took me to dinner and it was awesome. half of my family actually forgot it was my birthday which was pretty surprising but i guess when you're on the other side of the planet shit slips your mind... i had this amazing looking icecream cake that actualyl tasted like crap, a beaten up copy of scrubs season 1 and like $250. i don't know how the fuck i will get to perth with that but we will see. thankyou to the few people who remmebered. i think only two or three people sms'd/rang me but even a thoughtful myspace comment made me smile. remember when i promised cromags lyrics? i lied.
Would that you could touch this angel in a clutch of snakes.
Oh pretty, pretty, I'm aflame.
So excited, so unslept.
Somewhat littered, so unswept.
You have to sleep before you wake.
I am spilled and poured.
I am peeled and cored.
I am hanging from the floor.
Flicker like a freak through a sleepless week in a black cell of forever.
There's a point to this.
A point I think I often miss.
Oh clever, clever, where's your heart?
You can turn a phrase until it reads a million ways.
It makes no sense but it's as good as it is sad.
I am sad, elated. I am segregated.
There's this stitching and it's itching.
All my friends are dead.
Asleep in distant beds.
At least these enemies stay close.
Take me to the pretty ones.
I want to be a pretty one.
Sign me to a nice girl so she can ruin me, eternally.
They offered me a million bucks.
All I want is a steady fuck.
Oh steady, steady, where are you?
Channel surf a sea of static, see the prize but you can't have it.
There's something thankless in a wish fulfilled.
I am thrilled and bored.
I'm unskilled, adored.
All of both and none of one.
I would kill for more.
I haven't killed before.
I could set this heart on stun.
Take me to the pretty ones.
I want to be original.
Sign me to a nice girl so I can sing her something meaningful.
In my perfect world I'd be signed to a nice girl.
It would cost one million kisses.
Would that you could touch this angel in a clutch of snakes.
Oh pretty, pretty, I'm aflame.
So excited, so unslept.
Somewhat littered, so unswept.
You have to sleep before you wake.
I am spilled and poured.
I am peeled and cored.
I am hanging from the floor.
Flicker like a freak through a sleepless week in a black cell of forever.
There's a point to this.
A point I think I often miss.
Oh clever, clever, where's your heart?
You can turn a phrase until it reads a million ways.
It makes no sense but it's as good as it is sad.
I am sad, elated. I am segregated.
There's this stitching and it's itching.
All my friends are dead.
Asleep in distant beds.
At least these enemies stay close.
Take me to the pretty ones.
I want to be a pretty one.
Sign me to a nice girl so she can ruin me, eternally.
They offered me a million bucks.
All I want is a steady fuck.
Oh steady, steady, where are you?
Channel surf a sea of static, see the prize but you can't have it.
There's something thankless in a wish fulfilled.
I am thrilled and bored.
I'm unskilled, adored.
All of both and none of one.
I would kill for more.
I haven't killed before.
I could set this heart on stun.
Take me to the pretty ones.
I want to be original.
Sign me to a nice girl so I can sing her something meaningful.
In my perfect world I'd be signed to a nice girl.
It would cost one million kisses.