My ex wouldn’t come near me. I have the plague. Or I am the plague. But all you haters know where to find me. Front row, tall girl in boots, fuck you too. I’m gonna dance my little awkward heart out until they turn off the lights. Or mine get turned off. I was very nearly hit in the head with a base guitar. We can all shrug and pretend it’s love. 

I did not get to tell them about the prime opportunity to play my backyard. I’ll finish the set list for that first. Or pretend I’m less crazy.