Two times, and now I'm useless, pounding into ground again, I told myself to tell myself when I'd be ready, but just look the shape I'm in. And I've tried but I'm tired, of living life this way. And actually I'm suprised, that you haven't gotten sick of me already. Yet, I should be fair, give credits where credit's due but I remain motionless in aweness of why you do the things you do.
Lyrics submitted by x_melancholy_x
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