lets be weeping willows. sway this way and that to the beat of the moon. weep and weep. i've decided that i am nocturnal, and thats alright with me i suppose. the roads belong to the salted malibu and i can turn the music as low as i want. meijer is also pleasantly vacant, allowing you to notice and regocnize all of those tacky trinkets grandma
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I'm accustomed to a smooth ride
Or maybe I'm a dog who's lost its bite
I don't expect to be treated like a fool no more
I don't expect to sleep through the night
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