Cashmere and Cigarettes. Just the little things. Rolling in bales of hay smelling its sweet scent, getting my hands dyed red from the tresses. If today would mark the beginning of something it certainly marked the end. Roasting chickens on spits and fanning flames it was then we bid goodbye to our lives as we have known it for two years. Next year we would be trenched knee deep in cooties and cigars, too busy being nurds and having mash for lunch. It's like winter after a fall I miss you all green eyes red heads brown hair. Good or bad we've been through so much. The trees can be felled by rain and sleet but eternal shall we be. Caffeine and endless bottles of cheap perfume we'll walk through this, we'll get through this. Four zero Eight, my love.
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