there's something about a Tuesday night in July that turns my insides into a question mark. one hour i'm untouchable, the next i'm looking for a hand to hold in the dark. no song changed. no message came. just... the tide went out.
there's something about a Tuesday night in July that turns my insides into a question mark. one hour i'm untouchable, the next i'm looking for a hand to hold in the dark. no song changed. no message came. just... the tide went out.