A short delay,. The parrot blues. Little voices mimic you. It's not so hard to make that sound. . So watch your back,. The Ides of March. Cut your hair like Joan of Arc.
I know that it is freezing. But I think we have to walk. Keep waving at the taxis. They keep turning the lights on. But Julie knows a party at some actor's westide loft.
I keep floating down the river but the ocean never comes. Since the operation I heard you're breathing just for one. Now everything is imaginary, especially what you love.