May 18, 2011
And oh, oh, oh, wanted to pull you down. Roll on top of me baby, ya. Just roll, roll, roll, oh. We'll wreck our clothes, we'll scrape our knees we'll taste the scabs. You, sweet, are worth these next four months, until I bail out. Kiss behind your ears, drive off in the van. Oh my God I think I'm dying in this car seat, where I'll spend through winter.
saves the day