Listening to: Staind
Feeling: annoyed
all secrets are out...
there is no 'real' tomorrow.
::scene fades:: no explanation needed
Now that I can’t exchange actions for words
Now that I found these inside fears the worst
Now that I know there’s no place left to hide
Can I become all I thought I might
I want to make you muffins and then scones for tomorrow and after that, perhaps some butter biscuits.
that was andrea by the way: