SpaceMutie
American
Little bird, do you have a key / to unlock the lock inside of me? / Oh ink master, high above / can you write in me the sighs of love? / / Summertime sadness, with lips of gold / save me from growing old? / I ask these questions to the gods of night / Please, lords, save me from my frights! / / I cannot be saved, cannot be changed, / cannot be edited by hands of the unknown. / I take responsibility for my ingenuity, / I receive those powers on my own.
