wet snow cold cold cold water
under my skin in the very marrow of me
growing inside my bones

expensive station coffees endless afternoons spent waiting for a train i don't even want to catch


best combination is legs so weak you are afraid they will fail you in railway station's stairs and thom yorke in your ears

wicked smile and wet wet wet snow

jesus christ did i miss these steps through an early grave 

and no you idiot no no no that's sick stop it
i should stop this i should stop this i should stop this
i should i should
should i

yes but you know

What's going on? 
Everyone 
Everyone is so near 
Everyone has got the fear 
It's holding on 

It's holding on