how easy it is, to trip, yet it's easiest when you're racing, racing for what? i can't remember if it was worth it, the irony. i use to exchange thoughts with them, now we share the same story, boy you thinking you're special. truth hurts none of us are, envy the ones who gave in, yet it's hard to follow them.. lucky guy, or are you pitiful yes i agree, stumble on the cold concrete, now i know why she pushes me, just one more drag, i promise. fell onto insecurity, it was so unsure of itself it slept till it woke at dawn, it spoke as it left me, carried off it's list of names, what number am i, in that mind, only sometimes it said only when you smile, read this face, what the fuck does it say, sunken eyes told you, chapped lips showed everything. inspirited everything as we amount to nothing, evny the ones who atleast someone to fight with, kill the ones that don't appreciate it, degrade it, make it a game


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When Little Boys Play Chase With Revolvers song meanings
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