HE WAS PREACHING AT THE BUS STOP, HE WAS DRUNK, 

DRUNK ON MOUTHWASH, TALK SHIT 

HE A FOR A CIGARETTE I GAVE HIM A MINT 

A LADY ASKED WILL THE SIX SOON 

HE ASKED HER IF SHED LIKE TO TAKE A TRIP TO THE MOON 

HIS SARCASM REEKED OF LONELINESS 



AND I KNOW I HATED HIM THROUGH THE SNOW I COULD SEE A REFLECTION 

FRAGILE IS THE HELL WE MAKE FOR OURSELVES WHEN WE ACKNOWLEDGE THAT THE SPOTLIGHT扴 ON. 



HE WAS GETTING MORE OBNOXIOUS AND HE WOULDN扵 QUIT 

EVEN THOUGH OUR FACES READ YOU扲E FULL OF SHIT 

AND THEN SHE SPLIT FOR ANOTHER STOP 

HE WAS ASKING FOR A SMOKE AND HE WAS PISSED I SAID NO 

HE MADE A FIST SO I PULLED OUT MY DICK 揟RY SMOKING THIS?

SO SIMILAR IT WAS KILLING ME, SO FULL OF SHIT AT ONLY 15. 



FRAGILE IS THE HELL WE MAKE FOR OURSELVES WHEN WE ACKNOWLEDGE THAT THE SPOTLIGHT扴 ON. 

HE WAS ME IN HIGH SCHOOL, A STEREO-TYPE, A WELL-TRAINED TOOL 

BUT SINCE THEN I扸E LEARNED THAT ALL CLOWNS AREN扵 FOOLS 



BUT IF THE ME OF THEN COULD SEE ME NOW, I扢 SURE HE WOULDN扵 LISTEN UP ANYHOW 

HE扗 SAY 揑 KNEW YOU WHEN YOU USED TO MATTER?

BUT I扸E KNOWN HIM SINCE HE WASN扵 SO EASILY FLATTERED