Another Thursday. When every glass and knife intend to cut open new problems. Im not quite ready to be stripped of yesterday. Downtown jungle is when I am and zero is my conciousness. Visit me and under the sun we'll blow up ballons. Hurry and find me. Last words, many
Talking to you is like nothing I can compare
But I choose too
Youre so f.u.c.k.i.n.g into yourself you dont listen
To me or anyone else as a matter of fact