Well, let the poets cry themselves to sleep.
And all their tearful words will turn back into steam.
But me I'm a single cell, on a serpent's tongue.
There's a muddy field where a garden was,
And I'm glad you got away But I'm still stuck out here
My clothes are soaking wet
From your brother's tears
In this same bar where you slammed down your hand
And said “Amanda, I'm in love”, no you're not,
You're just a sucker for the ones who use you.
And it doesn't matter what I say or do,
The stupid bastard's gonna have his way with you.
So don't cry Delilah.
You're still alive Delilah.
You need a ride Delilah,
Let's see how fast this thing can go.
<3
walking up the hill tonight
and you have closed your eyes
i wish i didn’t have to make
all those mistakes and be wise
please try to be patient
and know that i’m still learning
i’m sorry that you have to see
the strength inside me burning.
where are you my angel, now?
don’t you see me crying?
i know that you can’t do it all,
but you can’t say i’m not trying.
good music is music to live by. good music is music that when you listen, you image scenes from the movie your life playing.
good music is feeling infinite.
good music is Dear Prudence in your best friend’s car driving through the Fort Pitt tunnel, imagining you’re in a scene from Perks of Being a Wallflower.