Let's all be ugly tonight. Let's be freaks. Let's drink to the death of beauty. Let's make a lot of noise instead of right notes. And maybe we just feel pretty. Sweet nausea. Burn this place down! It all seems so perfect. It all feels so perfect. It all feels just right. I want to pass out right here. I want to die in these clothes. I want to smoke my lungs out. I want to burn this place down. I don't know exactly what I mean by that, but I mean it. Emptiness creeps into dreams of hope. This art ends in flames.