a bottle of booze and a walk around the neighborhood, makes people think hard of the things they did and how badly they want to wind back the clock to before... before all these pu-dekcuf things happen. sometimes, desperately you want to change. but what's the point as they are all losing their trusts... gain it back? it's hard, you know. but never will you give up, okay? you get it?!?
~
as all the fools on parade cavort and carry on for waiting eyes. one you would rather be beside than in front of. but she's never been the kind to be hollowed by the stares... fools on parade frolic and fuck about to make her gaze. turn to scribble on a page by a picture that holds her option. but you draft to think she'd care... [1]
your past-times, consisted of the strange, and twisted and deranged and i love that little game you had called crying lightning and how you like to aggravate the ice-cream man on rainy afternoons... [2]
~
I really mean by what I said that changes are to be made. just you wait and see for yourself. In the mean time, please try to trust...
.. Change.
[1] Secret Door by Arctic Monkeys
[2] Crying Lightning by Arctic Monkeys
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