Carry on, my wayward son,
there’ll be peace when you are done.
Lay your weary head to rest,
and don’t you cry no more.
The best part of “believe” is the “lie”
You’re the finest thing that I’ve done,
the hurricane I’ll never outrun.
I could wait around for the dust to still,
but I don’t believe that it ever will.
Can I just have her face now?
I can’t even count how many people asked me what the lines on her face were for when I was drawing this at school. I’ve never said the phrase “they were going to cut out her brain” more in my life.
