Kerou-Scene

They're staring. And who gives a f*ck? I'm daydreaming about those shining days, bright, hot, and holy. I'm lost in those metal-in-the-sun memories, searing and psychedelic in hindsight. That's the attitude I have right now, like: I don't even give a shit man! what're you lookin' at, huh? And when things calm down, then it's back to my memories, the warmth, the rush-and you. If this world's doomed to hell then hold on to what little you've stolen. Call it sacred. F*ck all else. Strip pretense and posture and any of the incidental bullshit. That's not me; that's not us. It's pure "them", and I'll be ash before I'm one of them. So let's watch it all burn (you and I, hand-in-hand on the precipice of the end)if that's what's fated. But here in the dark and wind, with the stars dotting our domed sky I have nothing on which to grasp. That is to say nothing but memories of you. Together we're roman f*cking candles against the bleak so burn burn burn baby until we see the little yellow pop and teal shower sparks of glory where they all go "aww" and the cameras flash. I can't forget that kind of thing easily.