run, rabbit, run

days and nights rarely look so bright as when i look into your eyes.
on second thoughts, pass me a bucket, you're too much to look at.
let's play a game called "irony".
everything you say is always true. darkly.
we've got black magic under our tongues, and cigarette ash in our lungs.

the right decision will cost you £1.60
don't take it.
this isn't your stop.

dear diary: today's been pretty.odd.

looking forward to new panic! at the disco record.
like WHOA.

you don't know that i know. i guess this gives me the upper hand.
but everything that spills between your lips or fingertips is pure shit.
you're fabulous as you are. i love you like god knows what.
changing your thoughts and points of view doesn't make you cooler
and doesn't gain respect.

change for you.
not for them.

love etc

ghosts and people walking through themselves and back again.
we all believe in the supernatural.

i'm been contemplating lately. life, love, peace, violence, stress.
none of it makes sense.
maybe i just need a second to rearrange my thoughts.
maybe i'm nothing like i thought i was.
maybe you got me all wrong.
i'm tired. tired of early mornings and heavy hearts.
tired of that pressure in my chest and head weighing me down.

i just want to know that this is all leading my up to something.

i just want someone to tell me we're never completely tied down.
i want to run through the rain in bare feet -
and get the fuck out of this town.

second, minute, hour

there's plenty of time to sleep when you're dead.
don't worry sweetheart, this is all only in my head.
she said, she said.
catch me, catch me.
watch me, watch me fall down.
she's just playing these games for the attention -
this circus act of desperation.
"we're all crazy, baby"
this is the way we roll. true gold.
crow's nest silver treasures.
cheap silk pleasures.
you don't need this permission, you know.
sorry honey, is it too soon?
we're all alone in crowded rooms.
stealing lines off myself
as this all goes over my head.
crush.
a brush with fire.
all that shows in these eyes is decaying decadence.
these are clandestine truths. let me spell it out.

all i ever fucking wanted was you.

and we waste our time with the same old lines.
wearing rosaries and spraying churches with graffiti.
chain smoking cigarettes filled with sherbet.
"we're all one trick p(h)onies round here"
these are the resolutions you make to break.
i think i saw you once in a dream...

say what you fucking mean.

i'd give you my heart, and let you just hold it

"we both reached for the gun"
midnight comes and clocks chime.
we're a little behind time. schedules doing backflips to catch up.
whispers of congratulations in ears that are blurred through too much alcohol and vodka burns.
stomach acid churns.

"good luck..."