Infected.

Disconnected.



Its just what Ill do

Ill just keep spitting out these tunes 

until everybody loves me

and loves to sing the things inside of me

Like: 

Im SURE shes more than just a really great fuck!

and I wish you the best of luck

with all the whores and sores

and coked out bathroom floors.



Run away to your medicine.

Feel it all sliding down. 

Running away with your chance to say:



I NEVER thought you would stab

by lying her on your bed..



you pretender