detox just to retox.

what a catch, honey- save your mayhem for the AM. cue the "oh"s and meet me under the moonlight, save the lullabyes for a brighter set eyes. 'this isn't madness it's perfection' but i'll never live up to the hype or the hope. phone calls are just the closer, headached exucse for sober, century-old habits that i still can't get over. love is irrelavant when the crowd is staring you cold, she says: "baby boy you could have the world."