Wednesday, November 30


You're dragging your feet in the mud
So your shoes are stained with blood
I wonder, when will she get here?
One by one they will fall
But you grind your teeth 'til they're raw
I wonder, does it get any better?
We'll be up in the desert
Wearing these proud new sunburns
We're on our own time now
Don't you ever look back down

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