Texty:
The Weakend

Quicksand is a code of arms Lose sleep with some liquid fiction Last rites every Friday night While we cool with the lights on High tide tied around

i signed up today to take you for a ride i love the weekend it makes my mind survive but i could see some distance i could see some distance in your eyes

You reign supreme on your pedestal Protest music is just your stepping stone And the bastards that buy in are just meek and oppressed You write the rules

: i signed up today to take you for a ride i love the weekend it makes my mind survive but i could see some distance i could see some distance in your

: Kiss me mid-sentence and cut me off before I say too much. You and I both know we can't screw this one up. So close your eyelids and slit my throat

: A day in May. Cut the cord and leave the lights out. We'll pull our guns out, take our paces while tripping on laces And your heart races as sweat

: Glass will encircle my body As I wrap my indulgence around this tree In a state like this, at a time like this, it's worth the accident In this parallel

: This is but a figment of your imagination, what you see is what you get. So imagine me guiding your hips, with short breath from lips and my tongue

: i have come to terms with my existence my pain, my head, my life, my regrets im just human afterall please father don't abandon family you promised