Listening to Max Richter
Walking home in a weather warning
I guess this is probably how I go
Or I could choke myself to death with my fathers hands
I've been wearing them since September
Do you remember all the stupid shit I said?
Will you remember it when I'm dead?
When I'm just bones in a Box, what will happen to my thoughts?
Can't believe they play the fruit machines
Who'd gamble in a room full of bullet holes?
I guess this is probably where I'll go
Is London Calling on the wall?
There's nothing left I've removed it all
I'll be living here till September