There ain't a single drop of sorrow in this I haven't felt a thing for two years now (up until last week, and that was mostly physical --and we don't need to talk about that, do we? you weren't there.) The house is hazy and there's a whole new type of woodsmoke dripping from my veins Who knew you could make so much room in the front seat of a Mazda 5?
Let's be quiet about this hide in the dark from the shit you're too small and I'm too big to say I'd set it all on fire but I'd just have to clean up the ashes
"You can own the stage but the lights and glares will not make you real." --Margot and the Nuclear So and So's wrote that line and it always felt like pulling me into a centrifuge Spotlight dead center, focused on me trying to pretend to give a shit about the covers and the Super Cool Radio Rock (soon to be) Hits! Bored out of my arrogant little skull. Feeling like the Cheshire Cat invisible aside from the big fake smile and the psychedelic fur.
I pulled out my phone before I knew, started to text my friend I don't think I love him anymore. Saying it felt like sacrilege and I wiped the screen clean and shoved reality off to the side one more fucking time.
Sold all the way out and still don't have shit and here he is walking behind me all the way up the street just because I'll let him
You can own the stage and it don't mean shit if everyone around you is only a prop.