Airports lines...I wish it was summertime.
But it's Sunday night.
And flight five-five-seven's arrived.
She tells me she's filled buildings with history on 22nd Street...she's
not invisible.
My head aches.
Echo park turns to silver lake.
Where Millie's diner is closed today.
I like the taste of chocolate cake.
I close my eyes and I masturbate.
I close the door because I'm afraid he'll see me. I'm bored.
She thinks of big blue whales while she's biting her fingernails.
She writes plays I read paperbacks.
They've just begun 3D picnics, electric sun.
I don't care where you're coming from.
He's up there on the 8th floor and he's falling from the speakers and his head
has smashed to the ground.
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And everytime you leave me call to love you I gotta go just watch me drown.
And to somedays dry.
We're going to Ransburg.
It's hotter than hell there.
We're invisible, and we're bullet-proof.
We're invisible, and we're bullet-proof.