interrupted cocoa puffs and haute downtown scenes. grown up? what the fuck. pretty little devils touch bright shiny mornings, the hours tweaking for a decision. treasures enclosed, laced with suicide. a boot camp burn, the boy next door hopes they serve beer in hell. wallflowers disintegrating causing personal velocity. a million little pieces fall upon the sky and cast marvellous monsters into our eyes. beauty ricochet's off losers and beams back with an identical stare. a march of peculiar minds dance in the shadows of prozac infested skin. astonishing pleasure bringing your pupils to settle on paint smeared walls and you can't help but envy how reckless it can be without any flaw. pretty little epidemic and a haunting for something undeceive. a current of morbid electricity causing you to be a riot.
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