Night is scared to cross the road a bit like me.

I haven’t cried in years.

The second mystery is girls, a mystery that will surely never unravel.

I dreamt today, and on the way down I took a long time without falling far.

People think the sun fell because of them, and them alone.

I’m razor sharp at this time sticky blood racing around my body I am fast fast faster.

My pale skin is a stamp of authenticity in a city full of pretenders.