meet me in the bathroom that's what she says i don't mind

smoke rings blow from across the disco

bank notes burn like broken equipment

looks to the clouds all pink and disheveled, there must be some blueprint some creed of the devil.. a a hideous game vanishes in thin air, a vanity of slaves who wants to be there to sweep the debris

eyeless in the morning sun you were pale and mild a modern girl.... making tea in your underwear you went out in the yard to find

MUSIC. describing the core of me and my longings. if i found someone who i identified with very closely regarding the songs nearest to my being, i'd marry em. Because I can't explain the way some songs make me feel or the sentiment stirred by them or the rapture they enlist. I don't know what it is, they just do, and so you'd just have to get it. or not.