Tekster: Unwound. Demolished.

it's such a sad thing, but not a bad thing, when something's haunting your sacred scene.
and what's the purpose of getting drunker when something's missing the second time?
nothing changes how it used to be.
afraid to dismiss, we have to insist that broken windows aren't broken hearts.
i found the secret: we're bound to forget.
there's a party on the east side, can i get a ride?