The Dears

papier mach or crazy glue we stick together me and you and while the world falls apart you've got my soul I've got your heart we're held up on delayed metros there's no more drug or cheminaud we're waiting for your demands we smoke far too many gitan

-- Five in the morning you know we couldn't sleep Might be inspiration but it's been this way for weeks And weeks. And weeks. And weeks. And weeks Do us all a favor admit thy defeat through the back of the head through the back of the head through th