It’s a full moon,
Denim is tight And my flannel shirt is freaking out.
Run for your life,
Cover your eyes,
I don’t want you to see me party this hard.
I’ve got a bone to pick with the morning sun
And the first last call
But I didn’t put my hair in a pony tail for nothing so if I’m going home,
Alone.
I ain’t going at all.
(Source: viceslikecarter)
