Painless ghosts,
of which she knows,
the smell in her
Oregon loves too few.
Oregon loves just you.
Curse the rose, curse
They move, they touch. Perhaps too much.
They love to
Father your failures are so grave,
they have seeped to son.
No
Stalling, stalling, the hardwood of pews is calling.
We want
I just heard the news,
a new one is on your
There are things you tend to say when you're alone.
There
Mother's sick. She's gone mad.
A daughter's tricked, she's been
Baby brother don't you know?
I'm cross when you come,
I'm cursed
We are young and we are weak.
Just as blank as
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