Middle Class Suburbia

my throat

ive wrecked it

i want to make a movie

play me out

Dried On Tears; Moistened Fears

tired trees

buried beneath the leaves

get over myself

i know...

and i know

Dried On Tears

coward

...i won't

i love you

i'll stick my fingers down my throat

i'm starting to hate my memories, i'd like to make some new ones

myteethhurt

go home and fuck him

lite brown

your inked skin

everything's fine

part i

just leave

friend or enemy

part ii

part iii

in the end we're all no one

oh home on the range

oh, well

[extra] friend or enemy (electric)

take it back

small hands (cover)

ive wecked it

the cats still chase shit from time to time

a writer

I won't

ive Wwecked it

Utopia

feelings aren't true

Suburbia

i was a cowboy

comforting

it's hard

i wanna make a movie

...i wont

drunken terrors

reminded at dawn