You brush past people. People bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other just so we can feel something.
龑(yán):139.207.237.186
-First came? -Kev:me -And dad said? -Jack:gee -And then came? -Kate:me -And mom said? -Bec:we -And then came? -R:me -And they said? -Jack&Bec:that's three -All:big three