Wave to your boy, he's fading fast.
Sickness incarnate, not meant to last.
In the evening sprinkle, under dying skies,
he's sailing his paper boat into unknown
waters.
Wave to your boy as he departs.
There was no self love, ever.
Ever.
It's when the herb hits me hard I
knew masculine was never meant.
Never.
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC
Wave to your boy, he's fading fast.
Sickness incarnate, not meant to last.
In the evening sprinkle, under dying skies,
he's sailing his paper boat into unknown
waters.
Wave to your boy as he departs.
There was no self love, ever.
Ever.
It's when the herb hits me hard I
knew masculine was never meant.
Never.
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