We're quiet on the ride,
We're all just waiting to get home.
Another week away, my greatest fear.
I need the smell of summer,
I need its noises in my ears.
If looks could really kill,
Then my profession would be staring.
Please know we do this cause we care and not for the thrill.
Collect calls to home
To tell them that I realize
That everyone who lives will someday die
And die alone.
Because it is currently quite apt. That is all.
Music: I will play my games beneath the spin light - Brand New
Mood: Stressed
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