 once for every beautiful has been. The loves of past, future, and my present presented to me delicately pressed into a memory. I can feel the brush inside my mind, painting what one might look like lying on the sofa and another just plain lying, a previous me crying for lack of proper good-bye. And it's also for you, every person with has beens. You who filed all the emotional baggage into recycler trash bins. Which one goes where? I guess it depends on where it ends. If it ends, if there was ever really a chance that it's the end of summer, but we can still be friends. Playing this a bit of a museum, art everywhere. You might stop and stare if you could see them. Lucky for me, though, you probably never will. They're not exactly painful, but still. Then you add to the scenery, but for some time, but it don't take a whole day to recognize sunshine. So I got it now that it's always down to go. Or do you just want someone with common juries? I don't need a testimony. Have you been with a rapper before? If I came to a city, would you see me on tour? I said I had a metaphor, but I think I'm at a tent. So there's something I got to ask before the night ends. Why don't you just come on out? I said that it's young and I'm relaying lies and just stare at perfection. Don't think long, these are simple questions like.