modest mouse
he don't remember
how it got there
it had a number
written on his forearm
it spelled disaster
all hoping
all hoping for dancing
he was looking
and looking stunning
his clothes reflected light
all right
she sat
she sat in the backseat
the car was plush but had no heat
and no not no one was blushing
their technique was so damn right
and!
he read the note in the black light
he thought he read minds and was not right
that line still made him seem charming
his clothes were shining
shining