Arsonists and Used Matchsticks
light fuse,
run away.
12:12 AM, Plastic Tramp
Thursday, December 4, 2008

He looks as if he hasnt slept, his hair is purposely unkept
And then he knew his people wept, when you crafted your plan
The shadows underneath the eyes, and everywhere the bastard lies
My lack of proof is your disguise, you won't remember me
There's nothing really I can say, but sorry mate and walk away
I could be wrong unless you play your game, This world is cruel and most unkind
and horrible is redefined, I can't imagine that you'd mind at all