sitting on a couch that makes me shake.cause the giver and me made a bad
mistake.me and my wagon went on a little trip
standing on the grass counting all my tips.as the wind blows my hair the
moon shines on me.waiting for us to go and drink a little tea.pink shoe
laces and pretty faces,and lines without traces,pixie stix and i'll get sick
if you ask me one more time.pulp fiction on the television,waiting for the
light to turn green. somethings i don't plan but you know i can't be mean.
and then i heard her cry, and now i know why.
so i'm all alone laying in bed
wishing the pain would leave my head. i really don't want to fight, i just
want to be alright. and when you left the pain wasn't gone but i replaced
you with a beer bong.watching the room spend round and round.as i wink i
start to fall down.like the sky and the clouds just form together.the the
passing time is an hour later.
maybe one day i'll leave you, but you look so preety to me.
 
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