Walking across town, iPod on air, feeling tipsy and a bit high. Thieves Like Us on air, I talk to him while he is smiling our state of mind. people can judge. No matters what they think. We smile… cross the road the bus is about to hit us.
Smile. md. is working. kicking it. the lights seem to be turning into something that never happen before.
Soon I can see the boat, but we’re not reaching the other. I don’t want to. I feel good. we stop. love is here. not the one you know a pathetic one which invade you sometimes.
I look at him.
we stopped here
We sat there smoking cigarettes at 5 in the morning