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I hope we we all die like snowflakes on cuffed in the hands of well intended kids too dumb for life
I’m just your roting iced coffee from the back of your closet
Your the well dressed up profesicy ready to fuck me to death
Yeh we say as we slow moveing apathetic intercorse drunk beacuse were flesh to flesh bone to bone all lust no real love
Only guilty lust and pity sex, pity sex as in the way you wisper S-E-X
Coming down or growing up is the game for the kids who are phasers, smoking cigs from the ground to see more like that book sniffing assholes is the game of the president of untied pot land
Grow up ig i miss having sex, but I’m a virgin, just like that one car seat headrest song ik but have never bearded to listen to
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