1. |
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now we’re doing alright
everything matters just a little bit less
you’ll forget all of the ways i deceive
with low self esteem, believing you’ll leave
i used to preach what had been preached to me
that nothing matters barring morality
but one more loss, another part
a little piece that you once loved and at this point
i’d give all that i have to replace
what you can’t promise you’ll give back
so tell me how the fuck to deal with thinking about the end
when nobody else could replace what you’ve given on every call you’ve heard me cry
i’m sorry, some people have reasons but i can’t think of a single one
for why i can’t be honest the way that you want
so stay warm in my sweater as i grieve
i’ll enjoy your company
until the day you say “i’m sorry i have to leave”
you admit you're not sure what you're doing
but you're confident enough
to pull my sleeves
i may not breathe in weeks to come
whether intentional or not
you are the last of my life on these nights
except for the nights you talk about the futures you see
all i wanted was to see your smile
all i wanted was to see mine too
time’ll only let us go if we let it
we won’t let it any time soon
my hands are giving out trying to keep us
from losing this view
hello, i’m sorry if i seem like recently i’m totally out of it
of everyone i know, i only struggle to hide that with you
hello, you said that everything’ll be ok, and i trust you
cause you are the culmination of everything i could believe in
|
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2. |
131022_new
02:04
|
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i sang away
all of these scars will fade
i’ve left my blade
all of these scars will fade
so tune me out, tune me out
let me feed upon myself
don’t tune me out, tune me out
gain my love inside this cell
a bloodshot cry
tightening your chest
my mother’s eyes
pull me out of rest
make a promise
follow your needs
obsessive wants fall to your ground
another lie to not be found
leave me be, offer me
a change in sound, in scenery
i long again, to live and see
the autumn leaves fall to our feet
i sang away
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3. |
hold my boomerang bowl
03:56
|
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on the cold summer grass, will you be my breath
on these midnight hills, will you be the last
of the falling leaves in my hollow chest
where butterflies are too scared to rest
play the light out of the day that we’re just trying to pass
cables scattered on floors, forgotten by a neck
you had faith in a friend, a possessive mess
can i trust you enough to understand what we have
ooooh is this beauty
ooooh will you hear my pleas
with doubt i’ll cross my heart and drown myself
not in bottles, but in bruising wrists, and ruined skin
a friend in tools for tally marks, and keep forgetting the rest
they don’t call anymore, how can i know you won’t be next
the more comfortable i get, i learn my father’s disrespect
there’s a way for me to fix this with only one dead
do i walk down fieldgate towards the art hall taking the long way around to sit, and hear the repercussions of a discussion that shouldn’t involve me, where i’ve done nothing except not give in to her borderline sociopathic obsessive tendencies. i wouldn’t carve my flesh out for this of all things as much as some may wish that i do, because at least i treat my friends like they matter. when i take the 26 west down i’m not spending it thinking about myself, because i care about more than the person i care the most about. life is about love in any form you can get it, it’s about anything you can value enough to keep you going. i can see that she’s struggling to get that from anyone so she’s latched onto you, with emails and document chat histories, insulting you by insulting me, criticizing you for living your life the way you want to. i’m so glad it doesn’t mean anything to you. but i’m scared of the fact that it did at some point. cause everything i claim to control controls me more than you could ever guess, and i’ve tried and i’ve tried and i’ve bled and i’ve bled and eventually i’ll find it in me to fly further than my fear of death, to avoid giving you less than i have in the past. but if all goes to plan i’ll be gone before you can criticize my acts, and you’ll be left again to deal with the pain of death as if overcoming my fear of it would only work to confirm yours.
my flower that doesn’t exist
your tower as i try not to tip with no defence
ooooooh do you see me
ooooooh are we at risk, your mother’s pleas
with doubt i’ll cross my fingers writing these lines
hoping they hold your heart tight enough to make you stay
for the memories you know that we made
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rice and pork Toronto, Ontario
1. season and tenderize your pork
2. in three containers prepare and season: flour, beaten eggs and little bit of
oil, dry panko
3. dip your pork in the flour, then the eggs, then the panko
4. fry in hot oil (around 340 F), 1 minute on each side
5. dry on a wire rack
6. serve with plain rice
|| diy three-piece emo ||
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