Other Stuff

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Backstreets





One soft infested summer, me and Terry became friends,
Trying in vain to breathe the fire we were born in,
Catching rides to the outskirts, tying fate between our teeth,
Sleeping in that old abandoned beach house,
Getting wasted in the heat,
And hiding on the backstreets,
Hiding on the backstreets,
With a love so hard and filed with defeat,
Running for our lives at night on them, backstreets.

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