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Description
We are all a little paranoid when it comes to Turkies.
Turkish.
Turkle.
It is all the same wave of ridiculous.
I wish I was alive for the year of 2005.
Possibly the year prior to that.
And the half year that followed.
Parks tend to be darker at night.
As compared to the day when the swings are less moving.
Whispers of white phones to black phones.
No racism here.
Sneak out for the cigarette.
That no one knows about.
Silly liars are better then funny children.
Telekenetic. Homeopathic. Markematapic. Bloomingterongon.
Could you ever think of anything better.
A slip of the thumb and slightly the fourth finger from your pinky means...nothing.
Permanent marker smells like conforms to ASDF-1897.
What is a subway anways?
Headphones are excuses to block out the sirens.
The loud footy step noises.
The Ridiculous sounds of the birds next door with the four bedroom condo and the two import cars.
Amazing how crows could ride in such style.
FRITZ IS DEAD!
Break from the intermission and visit me on your right shoulder.
I am in the one in red.
A weeks break from what I think is lovely.
A week to think and blink and break in two.
Pop open a tube of red mix it with the symbals of telephone calls and psychopathic memories and I think we are in for some fun.
Spend nine days in hiding and spend nine days in waiting.
Waiting, oh the thing that I want to end the most.
Joints and jezebells.
Ring a ding ding says the kid with the candy.
Stupid assholes and their cups with witty sayings that no one gets but laugh slightly when they see it as to fit in for one more minute, clawing at the sides of social life as to hold on to the grip that they havent held for years.
Stupid assholes.
Hallways of white and asylum green.
Nothing about this seafoam buisness that the kid down the street loves more then her bed.
Stumble upon an expression to say what you feel the need to.
Smack another in the face as to warn him of the upcoming apocaloypse.
Then spray him with the hose and put drugs up his nose.
Run away and feel the sense of accomplishment that you know is yours.
I heard of this girl across the border who made up a new colour.
Her name is liar.
Birds and bees see things clearly.
But not like the moose who have no horns.
No no. They know everything.
Even what you had for dinner 2 years, four months, and nine days ago.
They are so incredibly smart.
Too bad they don't exsist.
Oh oh, I have an idea.
Bleach bleach, mark it off then red it all.
The red that reminds you of the age of fun.
Did you know that tonight the sun is setting in place of the moon.
They thought it would be fun to switch.
Prepare for twenty four hours of sunlight.
Half a year of dark.
I could get used to that kind of treatment.
As long as there is neopolitan ice cream.
Without the strawberry and vanilla of course.
What do you think I am, some kind of pervert?

Description
We are all a little paranoid when it comes to Turkies.
Turkish.
Turkle.
It is all the same wave of ridiculous.
I wish I was alive for the year of 2005.
Possibly the year prior to that.
And the half year that followed.
Parks tend to be darker at night.
As compared to the day when the swings are less moving.
Whispers of white phones to black phones.
No racism here.
Sneak out for the cigarette.
That no one knows about.
Silly liars are better then funny children.
Telekenetic. Homeopathic. Markematapic. Bloomingterongon.
Could you ever think of anything better.
A slip of the thumb and slightly the fourth finger from your pinky means...nothing.
Permanent marker smells like conforms to ASDF-1897.
What is a subway anways?
Headphones are excuses to block out the sirens.
The loud footy step noises.
The Ridiculous sounds of the birds next door with the four bedroom condo and the two import cars.
Amazing how crows could ride in such style.
FRITZ IS DEAD!
Break from the intermission and visit me on your right shoulder.
I am in the one in red.
A weeks break from what I think is lovely.
A week to think and blink and break in two.
Pop open a tube of red mix it with the symbals of telephone calls and psychopathic memories and I think we are in for some fun.
Spend nine days in hiding and spend nine days in waiting.
Waiting, oh the thing that I want to end the most.
Joints and jezebells.
Ring a ding ding says the kid with the candy.
Stupid assholes and their cups with witty sayings that no one gets but laugh slightly when they see it as to fit in for one more minute, clawing at the sides of social life as to hold on to the grip that they havent held for years.
Stupid assholes.
Hallways of white and asylum green.
Nothing about this seafoam buisness that the kid down the street loves more then her bed.
Stumble upon an expression to say what you feel the need to.
Smack another in the face as to warn him of the upcoming apocaloypse.
Then spray him with the hose and put drugs up his nose.
Run away and feel the sense of accomplishment that you know is yours.
I heard of this girl across the border who made up a new colour.
Her name is liar.
Birds and bees see things clearly.
But not like the moose who have no horns.
No no. They know everything.
Even what you had for dinner 2 years, four months, and nine days ago.
They are so incredibly smart.
Too bad they don't exsist.
Oh oh, I have an idea.
Bleach bleach, mark it off then red it all.
The red that reminds you of the age of fun.
Did you know that tonight the sun is setting in place of the moon.
They thought it would be fun to switch.
Prepare for twenty four hours of sunlight.
Half a year of dark.
I could get used to that kind of treatment.
As long as there is neopolitan ice cream.
Without the strawberry and vanilla of course.
What do you think I am, some kind of pervert?