martes, 4 de marzo de 2014

not in my head tonight

i know how you feel
when you hear nothing but the television on
memories seem so unreal

all the beds taste the same 
dry lips
not a single call by the door frame
how does it feel when you're burning your own house down? 


maybe they'll never wear the same dresses
that tired sinking stone
and i want to come undone


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