Lletres:
Upper Class Trash Favoring Blurred Lines

Pretty independent, Certainly pretty, Favoring blurred lines. Well how sharp can this get? Not the usual result, From the predictable set up. We stayed

Our love won't die, at least that's what I planned on, planned for us. Look to the sky, our eyes they stare at red lights, over the lake. (Stars are

It was her last words, as she walked out. His hope soon did start to fall. Another damn break-up, like the last one. He can't seem to see it's his fault

I, I write these words as I wait. The minutes turn into sharp knives. This new lit candle burns so dim, As I'm being stabbed inside. As the clock ticks

The plants are dying, so why can't I? Next to them on the ground, I lie while they turn brown. They fall down while I sit up. I look up to the clouds