Nothing can touch us my love


This is nothing like it was in my room

In my best clothes

Trying to think of you

This is nothing like it was in my room

In my best clothes

The English are waiting

And I don’t know what to do

In my best clothes

This is when I need you

The English are waiting

And I don’t know what to do

In my best clothes

I’m the new blue blood

I’m the great white hope

I’m the new blue blood

I won’t fuck us over

I’m Mr. November

I’m Mr. November

I won’t fuck us over

I won’t fuck us over

I’m Mr. November

I’m Mr. November

I won’t fuck us over

I wish that I believed in fate

I wish I didn’t sleep so late

I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders

I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders

I’m the new blue blood

I’m the great white hope

I’m the new blue blood

I won’t fuck us over

I’m Mr. November

I’m Mr. November

I won’t fuck us over

I won’t fuck us over

I’m Mr. November

I’m Mr. November

I won’t fuck us over

I wish that I believed in fate

I wish I didn’t sleep so late

I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders

I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders

I’m the new blue blood

I’m the great white hope

I’m the new blue blood

I won’t fuck us over

I’m Mr. November

I’m Mr. November

I won’t fuck us over

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About Alex Pavitt
I work in the field of emotion. My tools are instinctual feelings and my laptop is the medium between my brain and the outside world. I deconstruct and rebuild. I imagine. I steal other people's lyrics because somtimes, my own words aren't enough. I spend all of my time somewhere inside my head. I worship Douglas Adams, and in the back of my mind I am always painfully aware that I will never be as good as him or, for that matter, anybody else.

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