as we sing along to our demise
a co-headlined title fight and mobo reunion tour would literally print money
he doesn't know it, but a year from now, our family will be torn apart
and i will move far away and won't see or talk to him for five years.
and as we sit on the hood of our car, the sun goes down
and he asks me what i've wanted all my life
i tell him, "i don't know."
-sleep patterns by merchant ships from for cameron
ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
i just want to be something more than the mud in your eyes
where do scene kids go now that malls are dying
and your voice in the back of my head, wishing things could be quiet
what you wish for won't come true.
is this all there is? fuck. fuck. fuck.
i make emotional music || sXe || climber, skater, dnder || i mostly post music i like
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