Gave money to the man he put a bag in my hand,
Said son don’t you understand?
This isn’t the way out, this is the way in,
You’re doubling your troubling
The pebbles forgive me, the trees forgive me, so why can’t, you, forgive me?
—The Moldy Peaches
I’d rather sit infront of this screen
You must leave now, take what you need
French, Prison? Been there
It’s all thriller not a filler
