Texty: Heirs. Our Bodies And The Ocean. Making Sound.

Theres a town a few miles down the road that I take a friend to show.
This is how it feels to live your life like you were constantly spinning, constantly moving
on a silent, epic movie reel.
Depicting pictures printed in the sand.
On a beach with a pier overlooking the land.

I want a life like denim stitched perfectly.
Oh I lie to do it honey, and I do it urgently.

Its not the way that we kidded around, but the way that we laughed and the way that we made it sound.

Well I weighed you out and I know now what you weigh.

And it goes oh oh oh oh oh.

We laugh to make sound, we laugh to make sound and it sounds so perfect.

Oh it sounds so perfect.

Much like the many, too many is too much and once your belly is full than you just had enough. I keep my pockets low so I wont have much that I am forced to show. But the heart in my chest pounds harder than ever before I could count the beats if they would just start to slow. I breathe harder now much hard than I ever, ever did before.

And it goes oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh, oh it goes. So we laugh just to make a sound.

The vomit the odor I am praying this is over.