Traveller's Inn.
And when we play crispy christian tea time, I like to be president.
And if you don't like my game, you should definitely just run away because otherwise you'll burn in flames.
It's my world even if i'm insane.
It's my world even if i'm insane."
The Robot Ate Me, Crispy Christian Tea Time, On Vacation
Hey. Hey, it was okay for awhile.
I was. Drifting in and out, surfing on your back, and clutching the "important" in a jar strapped to my chest.
I said it was okay, and you sang a song of recall, and romance. It was revolting, it was. But I kept my mouth shut, and clasped like a cheap promise.
Afterall, it was a heart I could break into pieces.
Afterall, I was not a vicious lion - but I was starving.
For a long time, you lingered around, while I threw an array of words into your wide mouth. What was there to do but feed a youth with an immeasurable weight of ... sad gratitude? It sufficed me to see you glowing like a fat lamp - for a few fleeting days, I managed to keep awake all night superficially delighted, and tickled by your ingenious naivety.
After a while, it got hard for me to stop laughing without flinching, but I told myself, "Pretense comes with an incriminating duty to conform." So, I carried on with this one man charade. It was a dreary monologue.
Some time later, you got tired, and left like how the world did. I was, with a jar strapped to my chest, forlorn, but not sad enough to say a word. Soon enough, someone else came by, but it was...
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