Yeah, don't tell me you don't know what love is. When you're old enough to know better. When you find strange hands in your sweater. When your dreamboat turns out to be a footnote.
One, two, three, four. . I spy for the spirit of curiosity. All the scandals of each vain monstrosity. I gossip and I pry and I insinuate. If the failure is great then it tends to fascinate.
Nothing can ever be the same. All of the promises we made seem hollow. But there's still some streets in this town. Oh, they're marked, they're marked with your shadow.