I'd rather lay right here
sometimes it's a smell but most of the time it's a song I'm not even in love with you but I love you and I'm not even in pain over you but it's painful when I think of your face, your lips, your cold cold heart It's like we put a lock on that fence but I can't seem to make it to Paris to dive to the bottom of that river and find the key to set myself free. the last memory I have is you eating a stale muffin. I was wearing black. You peddled away. I didn't cry that time. I don't want that. I want everything before that. Those old plans for the future. California.
