More cigarettes for you
So beautifully sad, like raindrops in heaven, running off Jesus head on the cross and mixing with tears and blood into a white waterfall thats been frozen but its not cold, just lye still and I can see it all, flying around it and emotion pouring out of every pore and then I wake up from a coma and take the first breath without life support and you’re there and eastern glow is in my head. Where are you?
We are embarking on an epic journey to the centre of indie hell. I have a cough-glitter inhalation. He has a food baby, she has issues and I saw that boy wearing a suit in mc Donald’s. The world has gone mad. He asked ‘where is she?’
Asshole
Wrong extension number. Jesus you make it hard
I’m praying for it to rain in the next hour
We have a bone practical in the morning. I will wake you
I can hear you
I’m always happy to see you just don’t bring that boy to my room. Now, come downstairs and pop your head round my door so I can see your pretty face