Saturday night
its almost dead tonight
there is no money
no career, no finished projects
tonight my room begs for company
little sounds come from far places
the clothes on my bed
propel towards me
I lean into them
clothed, warm, worn.
its almost dead tonight
there is no money
no career, no finished projects
tonight my room begs for company
little sounds come from far places
the clothes on my bed
propel towards me
I lean into them
clothed, warm, worn.
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