Status: The story is not supposed to end here. I wrote this five years ago and I am now 17; quite unmotivated to pick up writing it again, but we will see. hold on!
Hearts Recycled But Never Saved
Letterbomb
Dear J,
Where have all the bastards gone? The Underbelly stacks up ten high.
The dummy failed the crashtest, collecting unemployment checks, like a flunkie along for the ride.
Where have all the riots gone, as the city's motto gets pulverized?
What's in love is now in debt, on your bitch certificate, so strike the fucking match to light this fuse!
It's not over 'til you're underground, it's not over before it's too late
This city's burning, it's not my burden
It's not over before it's too late... there is nothing left to analyze.
Where will all the martyrs go when the virus cures itself?
And where will we all go when it's too late?
You're not the Jesus of Suburbia, the St. Jimmy is a figment of your father's rage and your momma's love
- W
Where have all the bastards gone? The Underbelly stacks up ten high.
The dummy failed the crashtest, collecting unemployment checks, like a flunkie along for the ride.
Where have all the riots gone, as the city's motto gets pulverized?
What's in love is now in debt, on your bitch certificate, so strike the fucking match to light this fuse!
It's not over 'til you're underground, it's not over before it's too late
This city's burning, it's not my burden
It's not over before it's too late... there is nothing left to analyze.
Where will all the martyrs go when the virus cures itself?
And where will we all go when it's too late?
You're not the Jesus of Suburbia, the St. Jimmy is a figment of your father's rage and your momma's love
- W