December 2011
This New years
myscienceofsleep:
Raise your glass high… To fallen friends, To tragic ends, To lovers lost of a heart’s exhaust. To wasted time, To wasting time. To money gained, To money spent. A whim’s in need of a real intent. To its resolving arguments.
One year, now. We’re all here now. Tonight, to hell with everything else. We’ll drink hard, we’ll drink to ourselves.
