Lyrics from Pretty. Odd.
Tracks
Jon knocking over a chair and what is Mark doing?
One time, when we were like, 10 years old, we were really into making our own fireworks, and we’d take piccolo petes and we’d hammer them up, and wrap them in duct tape and if you lit them they’d explode, but then we filled a big gallon gatorade bottle half full of gasoline that we put in my lawnmower, then we put tissue paper down and we put the piccolo pete around the top, so it was like a bomb, so we set it in the middle of the street, and we lit it, and it blew up, and it flew over to the power box, and it started burning up the side, and there was this stripper who lived next door and she had a german sheppard and walked out the door and was like what the fuck is going on the pOWER BOX IS ON FIRE and then she put the hose on it and the fire spread, and once it finally died out, for the rest of the time i lived in that house there was a giant black stain on the side of the power box and when my mom got home, i was just like, goddamn. neighborhood hooligans.
(Source: panicatthedischoe)
loOK AT HOW C UTE HE IS, PERFECT BABY
(Source: cleverandfalloutboy)
Y’know back in the day people used to get stoned…with rocks.
(Source: dumbyana)
zoepanicatthefalloutelecraheart:
I think Panic! At The Disco just went on hiatus but forgot to tell us about it
(Source: patrickvaughnmartinstump)
agree with her.
(Source: just-passing-the-time)
good ol’ days
Cricket and Clover lyrics written by Ryan Ross of Panic! At The Disco from the lost cabin album
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I have crickets living with me
Little chirping limbs are coaxing
me to see you can’t be lonely
when crickets live inside your clothing
crickets living in my coat sleeves
little chirping limbs are coaxing
me to see I must be the one
to have you be the one
who loves me
I suppose if there were no reason
it wouldn’t be my coat they sing in
because crickets hold no intent
of being loved or being lucky
and I am both from what you’ve shown
so feather fingers if I am truly
made of one million glowing constellations
then I think I owe it to you to
try to be every hallucination
you see in me
thank you feather fingers for
believing there is more out
here than what we’re seeing
that there is more than just a canvas ceiling
hanging above our heads with no meaning
for reminding me the sun will come,
just when we think it has given up
and that it truly is enough
to be alive and be in love
for being the reason the birds
keep singing and for being
what the sky’s been needing
what you see in me are just hallucinations
I know it’s you who are the glowing constellations
I’m only reflecting your perfections
I know I’m lucky, feather fingers
——————————————————————————-
I feel as if I’m a figurine.
I feel like something on strings,
posed by loves fragile fingers
and possessed by a frantic
fluttering in my chest.
I am renewed. I am not of
rags or of scraps. Pristine…
I am something velveteen.
the charcoal clouds have finally
finished spitting on me
concentrating instead on painting a
faithful portrait splashed across
the canvas of the wine read
heavens. You are draped across
a vast daffodil cream.
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FAVORITE
crying
(Source: itmeansalotofyou)
