who gives a shit anyway? about the shit i talk, yeah the things i say...
like how my clothes smell like smoke, and a room to match, hands made out of ash i get too attached. remembering days spent you and me, sun wine and scenery and 'i wish i could be's'; oh the mystery, in our short history; like all those times you sat pinching me.


in all honesty...
you don't need me
to watch tv
to walk in the country
to have fun in this city
it just makes life less lonely
agree to disagree
with me

in all honestly, you're too fiery, to settle for a maybe, in all honesty

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