and to think that you are born into a new life.
too bad it's cut off before the finish line.
seems the days pass through the civ and then it's time to die.
and I guess it's hard to love.
or be loved when you stare through the razor's eyes.
look straight at me when you point your finger
cause when the smoke rises I'll be the one riding home with my camel.
thanks for the poisonous favours.
I'm not down yet.
and sorry for being myself cause that is all it takes
a trip onto the step to break you.
a useless reputation
for what it is worth I'm sorry for the letdowns and the problems I've proposed