HOW TO WRITE A CREEPY LOVELETTER OF CUT-UP NEWSPAPERS TO
ALEXANDER O. SMITH IN FIVE EASY STEPS

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IN OUR DARKEST HOUR
Phantom Planet, The Guest

It started today in a cloud, if I was the sun I would shout
I've got so much shining left before I'm out
It began with a spark, then a flame, grew into a fire and spread out again
And I just woke up here surrounded by the whole thing

Well, we have got to get out of here
In our darkest hour
When we may not make it

I can't see a thing through the smoke and if I could breathe
I'd try not to choke
No where to run no where to hide no where to go
Sometimes I get stuck, I get so upset
I burn at the ends I learn to regret
Just one toss of that faithful cigarette

Well, we have got to get out of here
In our darkest hour
I think the end is near I can feel it
We have got to get out of here
In our darkest hour
When we may not make it

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