WE LOVE THE USED
THE USED
maybe memories
the taste of ink
bulimic
say days ago
poetic tragedy
buried myself alive
a box full of sharop objects
blue and yellow
greener with the scenery
noise & kisses
on my own
pieces mended
SAY DAYS AGO
i still remember a year ago
the times we spent
i think that i'm happier now
up from the down
by all means
it's strange cause i feel the same way

i think of what it looks like
i think of what it tastes like
same strange
said it's strange cause i feel the same

makes me ill

still remember what it taste like
what it felt like