Pope will taylor


Ice you feel very nice
Pressed up agents my skin
As the plastic bends
My bones break again
Well my insides are twisted up
I must have been made from the wrong stuff
Well my body isn’t like yours
So you would probably just get bored
Glass lodged in my spine
Rips a hole in my side
As the tires slide
I close my eyes
I want to be a thought in your head
Not a memory or a distant friend
Well my body isn’t like yours
So you’d probably just get board