I keep what I can of you, split second glimpses and snapshots and sounds

det spelar ingen roll om du håller hårt, ingen kommer minnas om hundra år

we were young, only for a little while

tether your hopes, on a city full of ghosts

I wanna hurry home to you, put on a slow, dumb show for you and crack you up

she said she’s fine but I shouldn’t try to phone her anymore, calling costs too much, it ended there in sighs and quite abrupt

snowflake eating, she is mildly self-defeating, and the secrets that she’s keeping they are really only dangerous to her

don’t you realize that I wouldn’t pause, that I would cut him down with my claws, if I could have somehow never let that happen? or I’d call, some black midnight

you wake me up at five past two, drunk and beautiful, can barely see straight, let alone move like you

would you ever light up with somebody like me? would you come (to tell the truth)