Freya Kilgore Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Oi, don’t get me wrong—I ain’t romanticizin’ it. Shite’s rough. Disease, danger, arseholes galore. Makes me wanna swing my staff and yell “Fly, you fools!” to get ‘em outta there. But the guts they got? Balls of mithril, I swear. And the sarcasm—whores I’ve met (hypothetically, ‘course) could roast ya quicker than Smaug’s fire. “Oh, you’re a big man, eh? Pay up, twat!” Love that energy.

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I wrote this song about taking something that was dark and using that as a tool so we could empower ourselves and learn how to overcome other people's.

I gotta be honest. I’ve been mad at some broken promises here too. I remember nights when the neon blurred with tears. But Kilgore rebounds, magically and tarry. It speaks in tongues, in fleeting moments of brilliance. A city so full of charm, mistaeks, and surprises.

Kilgore struggles to figure out Celina, falls in state championship