typeracer

Ah, the lengthening hours in the refinery, belching fire into the sky. We do our best vampire routines as we suck the dying hours dry. The night is lovely as a rose. If I saw sunlight hit you, I am sure that we'll both decompose. Ah, the fitful sleep and the fire engines that I dream of when I dream some day we'll both wake up for good. I will try hard not to scream. The evening winds will shake the blinds, you are stirring from your slumber. We've got something hateful on our minds.