Crane Song Phoenix Ii Cracked
crane song phoenix ii cracked crane song phoenix iiii improved crane song phoenix vii xtremely xtremely xtreme songs you know but not why a day in the park with a friend who doesn't exist i miss those those those days when i could be anything for someone so so so nice. a spiral staircase that leads to nowhere and an old man who whispers bad omens as you pass by. here, your body is stained with evidence of the last days of the world-you can smell it and feel it. only the cranes survive. a good song should be a brick--solid, heavy, and reassuring. if it's a great song, it should also be a silencer--put it on and there is nothing else in the world. that's why i have broken up with you seven times in this letter so far. could you imagine how i'd feel if i didn't even have to imagine anymore? if we were just over for real? everyone has a list of songs that they keep around for special occasions, but then after a while every occasion feels just like all the others because you don't have enough songs for them all-so you start keeping your best ones around all the time just so everything stays different forever. but then you get sad because they're not special anymore and you start wishing you could find new songs to be with your old ones-new ones that will always feel so new and so right. you don't know how many times i've left things behind for this or that, people or places, only to realize there is nothing out there for me but this town and my own small heart. i wish we had spoken when we had the chance. i know what kind of kisser you are and it's hard to live in a world without knowing that about someone special. forgive me in advance-i tell people they're good at things when they're not just to be nice sometimes. it happens. every night your skin becomes a diary of those days with those feelings those qualities those things those people those times those places. the best i can do is write them down-then put them on a shelf and try to forget. we all have our secrets, but if sometimes i forget yours with your face in my mind, i feel as if you don't have one at all. if you can learn to love exactly what you have now, with no promises for the future, then everything will be okay. my mom asked me why i wasn't talking to you anymore. working on a song of my own. you're the kind of guy who can sit down at a piano and make up a whole new language in two seconds flat, but i get the feeling you wouldn't know what to do with it after that. the nights when we had enough energy to climb up the stars and overcome gravity by holding each other close enough were beautiful, but they're gone. now gravity is trying to tear us apart, but i will never let it win. a good song should be like kryptonite-holding it should weaken someone or something else's power over you.
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