"Even if we come home empty-handed, we'll still have our stories of battle-scars, pirate ships & wounded hearts, broken bones, & all the best of friendships. And when this hourglass has filtered out it's final grain of sand, I'll raise my glass to the memories we had..."
If I died tomorrow would this song live on forever? Here is my unopened letter to a world that never shall reply. Never shall reply. From this second story window I can hear the church bells calling out my name. This table is set for one even angels would be homesick in this forsaken town. On random notes of parchment I'm scrawling my existence dressed in white