October 2008
And now it seems that i have found Nothing at all I want to hear your voice out loud Slow it down, slow it down Without it all Im choking on nothing Its clear in my head And Im screaming for something
I was locked all day in the summer heat, In a small brown house in suburban streets, The skateboard and my shit guitar, I dreamed all day that they would get me far, My dad would ask me about my grade