Veruca Salt. Earhtcrosser. Zeneszám

Sleep little flea
Little boy
Me a freak
Am I clean?
I feel like men
I feel like boys
I think I'm peeling the ringing in my ears from playing too loud


I hear the ocean
I hear the crowd
I'm disconnected
I am unattached
An unmade bed makes me feel like a failure
Bedroom eyes lead to blurry vision
And the ringing in my ears from playing too loud



I hear the ocean
I hear the crowd
Too pale
Too sick
Too scrawny
But I'll sleep here anyway
And the sheets smell like bodies
Not mine
Not yours
It's two a.m. and it's quiet again
Where's my lip gloss?