this pen hasnt touched paper in days, whats the point, theres nothing left. was anything ever what it seems, hey man could you just point me in the right direction, i have it in my hands but i cant read the map, i fucked up at the intersection, im on the wrong path. im done with this place and all it put me through, break the bottles and cut my wrists my open eyes point foreward but i only see the past. this pen hasnt touched paper in days, theres no point i have nothing to say, look into my eyes theres nothing left. this place got bigger and it just assumes theres always a bright side, well hey mister do the things you love hold you back? its not like it matters what the hells left if i dont buy myself? with my heart in my hand i must make this decision, love it or leave it, this games over but i still cant hear the whistle blow. if you need a shoulder, lean on me, im lost in the memory of you, i'll leave the door open, wrap your arms around my neck, get the gun and play russian roulette, pull your body closer to me, with an 8% chance close your eyes and squeeze.
