The signal flares will light the way to the scene of the accident, where we'll dance like a pile of teeth in a broken mouth. Such a sick celebration. Everyone loves a fucking tragedy in epic proportions. Lets set our hearts at self-destruct. Like scarlet drips on a white tile floor. A cardiac metronome. We'll scrape the guardrail from our teeth and start again. There's a flood in the infirmary where we'll swim through broken glass. Our prosthetic limbs will keep us afloat. Lets set our hearts at self-destruct. my shit luck is coming back, except that i dont really believe in luck. everything that happens, happens for a reason, and everything just depends on where you are and what you are doing and who you are with, so dont try to change anything, and dont regret anything, just deal with the cards life deals you. sure, sometimes youll lose, but sometimes you will definitaly win the jackpot.