When i'm drawn towards the heavy star I choose to remember your suttle way your dirty shades, your endless praise, your retro hate. Sleeping in your car, eating breakfast in the park, drinking gold until the morning. The barn, the stars, your new guitar. Smalltowns, posers, three white princes by the wall. The park, the dance, the dark, this right here, the bird, skateboard, summer, punk rock shows how nothing is fun anymore. Seeing the world through your dirty shades.