crumbling rock of volcanic liquid in history
forgiveness is a difficult duress within a mystery
good for the soul they say perhaps another day
pause, allow oneself to breathe, wipe it off your sleeve
soon I will be dead it’s not something that I dread
it’s an end to the life of carbohydrates and bread
I would have been nothing if it weren’t for you
life changed me, like the taming of a shrew
you were the answer to the life in a stew
pissing it up and losing a shoe
struggling emotionally of mental dread
more times than I remember, I wished to be dead
each day was more hurtful than the day before
I would be nothing if you hadn’t opened the door
cast aside dreadfully for wanting more.
I’ve never been lucky, when counting the score
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