...I run to you, and we run from there.
My shoes are too slow,
and that bus is too quick,
and this city is making me sick.
It's plagued with youth
frail dreams unseen.
These girls can put nails on my back,
moans in my ear
but believe me
my words to them are never as sincere.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC
...I run to you, and we run from there.
My shoes are too slow,
and that bus is too quick,
and this city is making me sick.
It's plagued with youth
frail dreams unseen.
These girls can put nails on my back,
moans in my ear
but believe me
my words to them are never as sincere.