the red sun shines down on me
it fades like all the world
dieing, of course, is not a sin
but many have I done

allways to me have people been
nothing but tools for my atvantage
I killed them with my heart of tin
and never looked back in regret

I hate myself and have allways done
cause I'm a sore fuckup
now I know I'm not the one
cause now I'm dead

-The Poet
you think I'm different, when we are truly the same, I only show what others hide.