To mummy,
I'm sorry I was everything that you hated,
My bone-idol ways and destructive mind,
Running full speed on the path to nowhere,
Along the trail of the "no-hoper's"

What I do must be wrong?,
I'm alienated from reality and forgotten.
No one understands me.
I know there's no solution,
So why get my "hopes" up.

But!
I know that I can fix it.
Even if it does cause "heartache",
You'll get over it.
I mean, I'm no one special.
Psychopath more like.

The way to end what I do,
Is what I do to end I.
I for individual.
I for never.
Better off dead.

by ( georja busetto )


 
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