Listen to the rusting poetry of the soul, listen to it creak and try to make some sort of sound resembling a voice, lost in the machinery, the cogs of life, suffocating on the New York smog, choke! choke!
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Maybe We Aren't Breeding Idiots
We Will Never Be... I Am The Moon
Maybe There Is Hope...
Maybe We Aren't Breeding Idiots
The Past
Moving On
About Me
- moi_le_freak
- I'm always up for a good conversation or debate, can have a laugh and am a fucked up tapestry of insecurities and thoughts.
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