i hate music on the radio now.
this is perfect put it on repeat
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- catcher in the rye
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The cursed ones.
"I cried all the way to New York
and my eyes were the colors of the oak leaves
that had started to fall back home
for days i struggled to keep alive
and i shivered with loneliness
in a back room on the fourth floor of nowhere."
and my eyes were the colors of the oak leaves
that had started to fall back home
for days i struggled to keep alive
and i shivered with loneliness
in a back room on the fourth floor of nowhere."
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