Circulation
THURSTON JOSEPH MOORE
The perfect lights are backwards
Refracted cries
The needle hits black lacquer
Speakers forgive lies
I'm not running away
The circulation makes her crazy
She's not here to stay
She just came by to shoot you baby
The perfect lights are backwards
Refracted cries
The needle hits white lacquer
Speakers forgive lies
I'm not running away
The circulation makes her crazy
She's not here to stay
She just came by to shoot you baby