Torch Yourself

This town has no seasons-- it's the middle of October, and you'd think there'd

be a nice, cool breeze by now (but you'd be wrong). The summer lingers here for half of the year--

and I'm convinced that we are all about to crash into the sun. I fell asleep on paper wings.

These people have no feelings-- their heads are the only things that ever teach them anything about love.

And I'm not sad, I just want to trust someone so badly. I just want something beautiful to happen here right now.

I fell asleep on paper wings. These words have no manners-- they come to me at night when

I am trying to sleep (and shake me violently, like it's the end of the world or something). And I wake up on paper wings.