syrup spit in my ear teaching me how to slide and she the hip hop record out the san francisco's out of the san francisco hurdled ***** exchange rates mastering the filthy turn broken horn memories adjacent his new coats he had and hadn't given away how he wound down towns spendings is spring weathers are drying deserts behind her eyes so depressing sad how about some ice cubing and she would run home alone just couldn't get around to their name
tomorrow forgets me, so do cities, im struck by how that's comfort today