And i'd write you a letter to explain all my actions but i'd only take it too far again, and you'll consign me to that shoebox underneath the place where you hang your coats, on a par with train tickets and badges. well maybe that's justice, on a par with train tickets and badges, i'll be at home with objects that can pierce your heart and take you far away. paint me with loyal marks, at least ignore me with feeling. good arms. painter. and the style of her dress is no longer screaming a line, simply saying that the rest of the alphabet had gone away to spell other words and phrases that day so there was no "u" to be found. only memories of "x"'s. paint me with loyal marks, at least ignore me with feeling. good arms. painter. this time i'm not just thinking out loud.
