| i found the way out but if i told you you'd be down |


oh leopold, poor leopoldhe woke up before the sun had come, when people were just leaving for work, the cold dark daily commute to ensure their kids could go to a decent school someday. he looked at the things gathered in a pile, he’d tried to burn them the night before but it was too cold and they wouldn’t stay lit. a dried flower, a postcard, some various notes and scraps he’d saved. he packed them all into a big clear dry cleaners bag, and smoked a cigarette. he brought the bag filled with the things, over by the window where he sat on his bed. he fastened the bag over his head and taped it around his neck and cried as he kissed every singed artoh leopold, poor leopold


???What’s left in my head but collections of broken ghost songs????
I’ve tried thinking distracting thoughts, but as always jealous ears are overcome by teasing timbres and warped records skipping warbled melodies
Many curbs left to cry those teasing taunts on-
and lady if you see a dark window, aim for the man standing just behind the curtains. Fill his room with something darker than a broken lamp and force him out the window
and man if you hear her song don’t even try to shut that window
So many ghosts echoing in the alleys you’ll think you were living in a city of nothing b
foul moon| guitar music books movies I'd like to make movies. |
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have you seen me lately, i am the dog sized bird on the tracks
i have an unhealthy head full of options and a couple of trains on my back
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