domingo, 18 de diciembre de 2011
So I ran faster
But you caught me here
Yes my loyalties turned
Like my ankle
In the seventh grade
Running after Billy
Running after the rain
These precious things
Let them bleed
Let them wash away
These precious things let them break
Their hold over me
He said you're really an ugly girl
But I like the way you play
And I died
But I thanked him
Can you believe that
Sick, sick, holding on to his picture
Dressing up every day
I wanna smash the faces of those beautiful boys
Those Christian boys
So you can make me come
That doesn't make you Jesus
I remember
Yes in my peach party dress
No one dared
No one cared
To tell me where the pretty girls are
Those demigods
With their nine-inch nails
And little fascist panties
Tucked inside the heart
Of every nice girl
These precious things
Let them bleed
Let them wash away
These precious things
Let them break
Let them wash away
---
And this song, it matters not when I hear it, it always carries a meaning to me; just it's not always the same one.
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11 comentarios:
As you are not a deleting freak, i assume you hadn't deleted my comment. Which means it never got here, because my internet is so shitty.
http://d24w6bsrhbeh9d.cloudfront.net/photo/1113489_460s.jpg
Just checking how you were doin, i like to do it from time to time, i like to know you're still alive.
Even though god trolled us a lot by making us so apart.
If you had actually deleted it, i'm so very sorry. But i really wanted you to know this.
I didn't delete it. I don't delete anything, unless it's some random freak saying nonsense.
It's a nice and realistic image. But we're kinda closer, just a little jump over a big water puddle.
So, yeah. I'm alive here.
Conclussion: Your internet is, indeed, shitty.
Maybe i hit the "vista previa" button. That would explain a lot of things.
Glad to know you're fine, boy.
About the image, don't know. Made me think of you. Btw, yes, we're not that far... but still is so difficult... Well, not like we hadn't chatted enough about this.
Mwah.
it's not like we haven't. fuck my english at 4 am.
I know. We did talk a lot. I think all has already been said about that. Right now, it's up to you, and it'll stay that way.
Fuck your english at 3 am. Mwah.
I miss so much talking to you, feels so natural.
I miss it too. It just flows.
Yeah, doesn't it? You're amazing, boy, don't you ever forget that.
It's hard to remember it sometimes, given the circumstances.
Well. Remember it. I know you trust me enough to believe what i tell you, then believe this.
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