Ahh, but we're still all playing children's games. Want to escape, want to be back where we used to be. Sure, it was fuckin' purgatory, but isn't that what we're in now anyway?
Deal with the bad things. It was still fun, because it was an experience. It was all a saccharine daydream...we had nothing. Just each other. Kids sitting in the dead of the freezing cold morning, huddled around a single lit cigarette. The four of us fucking each other just to ignore the rain. It was bad, and it was risky...but wasn't that the point? Weren't we doing our best to escape the fact that everything was so FUCKING ordinary, that nothing special ever happened here?
Little fucking deviants. It was our little secret, you know? Trying to justify the oddness. All those events that you wouldn't even believe if I told you. It was hard, and it was painful, and we bitched to no end. But in the end, we had so much fucking fun. I suppose hindsight is like that. I wish they still had that pulpy drink I liked... We wanted a way out. And the second we found an escape, we used it as much as possible. Became attached to it, in a way. Because in the end, we were still kids.
She forgets that she used to fuck on the side of the ditch, just to forget for a second what it felt like to have all that dirt on her grave. We all did.
So long. Off to America. It was time to say goodbye. I guess we're adults now. A new beginning...fuck the ordinary. I suppose that's the real lesson, ne? Instead of trying to forget it, we'll actually do something about it.
Pick up your gun, pick up your bass guitar, and figure out whether you like the pulpy kind or the sour kind best. It's time to find the Pirate King.