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We all do
So that I could go cry
Wall and paint
When all I hear is
but I'm already dead
So I picked
A silent
Up all your
hair-clips
It red I
Symphony of
And packed them away
Right next to
Pain and disgrace
The letters that
You left me just
Again on a future date
Put a to the
And now I will
In case we could
Figure it out on
Waste every
A better day and
Plastic Boxes
Side of my head
One of my days
From New York to
LA I don't
Blind deaf
Want to die but
I don't have a
