you hear my words my pictures on your sleeve, imagination paints a window into me, but that's one sided.
you'll have to meet me face to face before you justify projections.
am i what you want? just what you expected? but the me that's me seems we're similar but separate and to my friends that were there when then was then, don't forget i'd be dead without your friendship.
and the distance between us grows from day to day, but i can't find all the words i have to say ...
look through the false image castings of this seven-inch.
we'll hangout together all night and you will know.
