Texty: Hollywood. Starving Artists. Goodnight.

Insomnia we are best of friends, partners in crime at 4 a.m. I cant sleep with that hideous beat that pounds when you're around. I've become motionless, sweating bullets of stress. I am composed of skin and bones, but my eyes are made of lead. Let the insomnia spread. We'll sleep when we're dead, and with that said... goodnight