MIXTAPE_MISCELLANEOUS

I’m the reflective pond of all your sorrows It turns you on when women don’t get treated right Sad boy, weeping in your musicals You could never quite save me when his marks would leave me maimed IV of propofol, no one noticed

Glad you boys worked it out on the remix Fighting for my attention when I was just the QRS interval for your masculinity It really was just the three of us back in the day Until he cursed you for playing with his favorite toy God you love a manic pixie girl Maybe that’s why you suffocated on the guitar strings of my grunge records Cereal cheater, milk sour like your face card, eaten with a little spoon Still riding Alexander Street’s dick Reporting it back to your cult leader