Real lies.
Real life.
Real photos.
And they're in black and white.
Real love.
Real life.
Like in My Guy Annual 1979.
I have a souvenir momento of you.
The bitter taste of sick in my mouth will do.
I want to remember.
To forget.
I don't want to remember.
To forget.
I just want to remember.
To forget.
Everything we said last night.
To forget you.
To forget you.
To forget you.
Real lies.
Readers wives.
Weary photos.
And wearing red black and white.
Real love.
Real life.
Can we watch them burn 400 Fahrenheit?
I have a souvenir momento of you.
The bitter taste of sick in my mouth will do.
I don't want to remember.
To forget.
I don't want to remember.
To forget.
I want to dismember.
And forget.
Everything we said last night.
I don't want to remember.
To forget.
I don't want to remember.
To forget.
I want to remember.
To forget.
Everything we said last night.
To forget you.
To forget you.
To forget you.
And I hope you remember me.
So I can ignore you.
The next time we meet.