subsi diary

hidden what

borabora boreing

retro booming

prodounced with a silent g

when the direction of the sun makes you forget where you are

turns around to find nothing i can touch or run from

funny by consequence

devil taught me to drive

gothic

call to satan

everyday i know i try every day i know i fail

instantaneous combustion

for my life

looking back still confuses me

bound to happen in whatever i do

want to know the language of thought

memories of an ant

paper boat running out of wax

tired of it

setting stage

between

chips and cracks

even if i was the sun id still feel like i was moonlighting

300 aint even that fast i wanna go 200

three mice blind no i am a space cowboy

hurts to hear

content