...but all you gun freaks might get a kick out of this. Have at ye.
And post your terrifying creations, of course.



...but all you gun freaks might get a kick out of this. Have at ye.
And post your terrifying creations, of course.
Every love that made me lose my reasoning. Every chord that made my conscience ache. Every day spent counting hours. Well, none of them comes close to singing back a song inside my head.
I remember calloused hands and paint-stained jeans, and I remember safe-as-houses self-belief.