Shut up and sing it with me.

Make no apology,

And step the fuck away

On my authority,

Crash and burn,

Young & loaded .

The aftermath is secondary

And that, was all I need to make my day, my week, and probably much more than that.

This time I might.

To ask the sea for answers .

Maybe a good excuse not to give a fuck,

But I
But I
But I
But I
But I don't want you.
 And don't want me.


THESE.
GAMES. 
ARE NOTHING. 

You can say I told you so,
If you wanted me to go.

And you're probably just too good.

I just wanted you to know.

Now you've sewn them shut.

Drifting body, its sole exertion.

Flying, not yet quite the notion.

IF I WOULD,
           Could you?

No, I’m not sorry.

You’re not pleased till you draw blood.
I don’t hit back but think I should,

I know that you’re wrong,

You’ve known all along.

-Dentro de un par de días te escribiré una carta y lo enteras todo, pero ahora escúchame de todos modos.

Eso es lo malo. Que no hay forma de dar con un sitio tranquilo porque no existe. Cuando te crees que por fin lo has encontrado, alguien a escrito un Joder en la pared. 

The Catcher in the Rye.