From the recording mission impossible
a see-through, soaring, lucid true girl. writing stories on a floating blue world. falling in love with distant quasars. when you fall hard, you see the prettiest stars. mirrors perfectly aligned, flashing signals to the blind. reeks of empty space. all the boring days in between things showing up on the radar screen is not enough to break me. (bring it back) smoke a hundred cigarettes, a hundred little deaths. a spiral arm to wrap around. I tried to be patient, I tried to be good. but it's too hard, I'm too rough, it's too much, it's not enough.