I can’t place why, but I’m sure I’ll be mentally unstable when I’m older.
Broken into a thousand pieces. Talking to the birds as if they hear me and respond.
It’s a shame we don’t have those stories anymore, the ones about the house you don’t go to because the lady who lives there is crazy.
Don’t judge. Maybe she’s just still not over some guy who probably doesn’t even remember her name.
Just Like Lana 