um

One of those terrible melancholy boys again.
he is probally from sweden. he is, oh.

i don't know what i'm doing here,
neither.
he said he would take me to a tropical paradise.
now i'm not so sure.
i work in a diner, the worst kind, you know.

she is so godammn cute,
like a creampuff, which i dislike
i cannot escape these sweet songs
all the sad boys have love to burn.
i see a place that looks like holidays

now i remember
your face shutting
we rest on a futuristic plane
hear a moth hitting the wall
that is inside the planetarium
the only place i can hide
james dean doesn't move his mouth