P.S. Eliot

Peach
tell me there's a reasoni sit and speculatethe suitable season95 everydayi guess that you choose distressmy stamina will recessand you proceed clumsilytripping over the debristell me you remembernew york was hot as hellamity and new portswe bought them somewhere elseyour disregard poked like a thorni recite it from memoryas you drag your focus through meour summer's indiscretionsthey're fuzzy like a peachyour aid is less assuringwhen you can't practice what you preachi worked too hard to watch youfuck it up and try my luckand i won't tell me that i'm right ortell me that i'm thinking straighti got caught up and Songtexteyou're a few years too latethe bright lights, the beer on your breathmiddle school chaos contestplay up the prophetic viewour summer's indiscretionsthey're fuzzy like a peachyour aid is less assuringwhen you can't practice what you preachi worked too hard to watch youfuck it up and try my luckand i won'ttell me there's a reason and i won't Aus Songtexte Mania