you lips shakes and you bite your mouth
your eyes always look like they are pouting
strawberry ice cream, photo booth, and the airport
russian blues, bart, and green circles
barber cut shaves, sore left shoulders
things that should have been or are yet to come
the moon, and everything else i can't have
just running scared
the way you look when i wake up in the morning,
and your still holding me
chasing you thro the red door into self enlightenment
distractions, bowling and french fires
secret for secrets
your virginity, my cold cold heart,rowing to the moon
and all the good night serena's
can i hold my little fists on
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