We’ve lost control and we’re lifting this car right now. We better coast to the end of a cliff somehow. He’s a killer, she’s a grinner. The moon filled out to the shape of your eyes just now. I’ve never seen such a fight in bored eyes before. He’s a killer, she’s a grinner. “Too much TV” for the moon and the mind. We’ve lost control, killing in style. If we had phones, we’d be texting the cops right now. Meet us under the moon, past the lot, towards the bag filled with sand and our plans. A couple of pipe bombs, last thing you’ll ever hear, “baby please cover your ears”.
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