Audio: https://soundcloud.com/omegarift/polaroid
Turn back to find a smoke, a pack of Polaroids with pictures I forget I ever took, smothered lipstick on the glass that she was sipping overlooked, I don't remember what she meant by that expression if I should, see the faces tend to change inside these memories I took, careless when I shouldn't but there's nothing left to do, just another early morning I'm acustom to the route, wake up go back sleep there's something draining to this room, I'm insane but so are you, don't you listen to yourself, don't you listen to i yourself, there's something worrying about you, I don't feel with no one else, somethin sudden in your stomach I can feel it tryin yelp, I've done gutted every trouble leave the rest to someone else, now don't tell me that you love me only care about yourself, utter non sense so you say so, so be it, be alone, oh you say I'm always running well there's nothing left at home, just some photos that you left that you had told me you would take, remember talking to me saying that your really running and late, and that your tired of me acting like I love you we don't date, because there's to much on your table and your running out of plates, and you would kill me if you knew the way I deal with the escape, there's something subtle to your lips I like to listen when you pace, Would you pull it off my shoulders if I told you bout the weight, there's something colder to your touch it's feeling different by the day, but that was memories ago its seeming vivid as today, remember early morning smiles thru the glimmer of the rays,
You never really smiled much, incense burning by the window are you high enough, talking to the silhouette you left up on my bed, I feel you printed in my skin like there was ink up on my flesh, head first was always jumping in conclusions in a sense, there's nothing left for me to fall for foolish I admit, still running from the clock, I like the memories you in, but my memory be thin, I don't remember fucking shit, what's your voice and how it feel before the pressure of your lips, all I got is fuckin Polaroids and messages you sent,
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