apple pie

I wish I could eat the salt of your lost and fading lips. We can cap the old times, make playing only logical harm. We can cap the old lines, make playing that nothing else will change. But she can read, she can read, she can read, she can read, she’s bad. She can read, she can read, she can read, she’s bad. Oh, she’s bad. But it’s different now that I’m poor and aging, I’ll never see this face again. You go stabbing yourself in the neck.
And we can find new ways of living, make playing only logical harm, and we can top the old times, clay making that nothing else will change. But she can read, she can read, she can read, she can read, she’s bad. She can read, she can read, she can read, she’s bad. Oh, she’s bad.

It’s different now that I’m poor and aging, I’ll never see this place again. You go stabbing yourself in the neck. But it’s different now that I’m poor and aging, I’ll never see this place again. And you go stabbing yourself in the neck.
It’s in the way that she posed, it’s in the things that she puts in my hair. Her stories are boring and stuff, she’s always calling my bluff. She puts the, she puts the weights into my little heart and she gets in my room and she takes it apart, oh she puts the weights into my little heart, I said she puts the weights into my little heart.
She packs it away.
It’s in the way that she walks, her heaven is never enough. She puts the weights in my heart, she puts, oh, she puts the weights into my little heart.