curbdrop out of grace

i we want is a feeling

i don't care what john wayne's corpse says, broken social scene is the next fixed social scene.

she's like you except unglued, and she excludes the years of potential awkwardness you bring. yet you are the same game lame and plain like a rusty bicycle chain. left alone in the cold so old and so predictably naive like you think up my sleeve is a fucking care about the air surrounding your wasted face. the windsurf unearths the beast beneith the sea always breathing the calmness of flood before the calm. same old song sang backward this time and i sang along for once for the sake of sex so don't expect what's left when i leave to be anything more than the air i breathe out when i'm done.

posted by fillshe @ 3:10 AM