Infected.
Disconnected.


Its just what Ill do
Ill just keep spitting out these tunes
until everybody loves me

and loves to sing the things inside of me
Like:
Im SURE shes more than just a really great $#&@!

and I wish you the best of luck
with all the !@^%s and sores
and !@%!ed out bathroom floors.


Run away to your medicine.
Feel it all sliding down.

Running away with your chance to say:

I NEVER thought you would stab

by lying her on your bed..

you pretender