We're boxed in and labeled before we're ever able to speak who we believe we are or who we dream we'll become.

But whatever However Whenever this ends I want you to know That right now I love you forever

You keep worrying you’re taking up too much space. I wish you’d let yourself be the milky way.

You can have a cold war with yourself, even in the summertime

For Halloween I'm gonna be emotionally stable. No one's gonna know it's me.

And we were Banksy on an overpass in New Orleans spray-painting porch lights on the hurricane. We were welcome mats for the un-forgiven. We never sold our windpipes to make a living. We were the letters sent to the wrong address, but opened anyway. We opened anyway.

I could never trust anyone who's well adjusted to a sick society.