Voltage:  Perfect. Somehow.
Tunes: Bright Eyes : Poison Oak
Poison Oak. Some boyhood, bravery. When a telephone, was a tin-can, on a string. And I fell asleep, with you still talking to me. You said you were afraid to die...
In, polaroids, you were dressed in, womens clothes. Were you, made ashamed, why'd you lock them, in a drawer?
Well I don't think, that I, ever loved you more, than when you turned away, when you slammed the door, when you stole the car, and drove towards Mexico, and you wrote bad checks, just to fill your arm. I was young enough, I still believed in war...

Well, let the poets cry themselves to sleep... And all their, tearful words, will yurn back, into steam...
But me a single cell, on a serpents tongue. There's a muddy feild, 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 brothers tears...

And I, never thought, this life would be possible... You're the yellow bird, that I've waiting for...
The end of paralysis, I was a stauttuete.
Now I'm drunk as hell, on a piano bench. And when I press the kayes, it all gets reversed. The sound of loneliness, makes me happier...

<3
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