four, three, two , one let me start by running for the gun im looking around for my pals and i don't see them and the comments they make are sending me out on a whim im tired from all the fighting, im fired up though by destruction and bashers being rejected i see my life and the future that is projected insanity level high, pawn shops closing fast got into a bar fight and ended up on my ass. all i could taste was a moment that made me look in your eyes a corpse lying in a shallow grave surrounded by rats and flies i don't want the world to see me, cause i don't think that they'd understand when everything seems to be broken, i play with the percussion band in not like lukas, i don't smoke all pot but you can taste my sadness, cause you're here and im not.
Reason for writing:
a seperation not of either doing
Birth sign: Aries
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