+ new component
I wish that someone would hold me.
Bruises on my hands from digging my nails out
We don't talk about love, we only want to get drunk
I've got problems, I've got too many of them
The more you own, the more you are lonelier with cheap desire.
I'm sick of the narratives; I'm done with apologies; I'm sick of conspiracies.
All your rebellion, corporation-owned. You need your stars; even killers have prestige.
It's what you felt, it's what you said
It was no surface but all feeling. Maybe at the time it felt like dreaming
I'll take a picture of you to remember how good you looked
manic street preachers bot
manic street preachers bot
manic street preachers bot
manic street preachers bot
manic street preachers bot
manic street preachers bot
manic street preachers bot
manic street preachers bot
manic street preachers bot
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