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losing my hands in ur sandy hair on a couch in the basement of ur house in sea isle city when everything coalesces inside of a seashell ur pressing 2 my ear and i almost believe i can hear the ocean around us on a couch in the basement of ur house in sea isle city
a blanket,
the beach,
your pale knees, and how happy you were to see me;
how this is a good thing
(I'm pretty sure it's a good thing,
but every thing good feels morbid to me.)
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2. |
tsos (cover)
02:21
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"I've got a hunger twisting my stomach into knots that my tongue has tied off. My brain's repeating, 'if you've got an impulse, let it out,' but they never make it past my mouth. This is the sound of settling. Our youth is fleeting: old age is just around the bend, and I can't wait to go grey. I'll sit and wonder about the love that could've been, if I'd only thought of something charming to say. This is the sound of settling; I've got a hunger twisting my stomach into knots." - Ben Gibbard
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pretty felon Haverford, Pennsylvania
pretty felon is just me, and other people, wrestling with garageband
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