Modern painters can't decide why every time she smiles it's just a dream of a world inside
There's a world inside
There's a drunkard picking fights with the bride on what we thought would be a new, new day
You could always stay in tonight,
And see if what the walls have been whispering is right
I mean, that shit is right up your alley, isn't it?
A girl in every port, but the world still makes sport of you,
Saying
"Go find a reason…Call it Helicopter Season…Now, repeat after me
Is it for This I have hunted?"
Field and Stream: our second favorite magazine about new ways of living…Modern painters can't decide…(don't cry)
