Serve me round the table. You piss me off just by being yourself. Two seasons and i'll go without you and none of your wants. They latch on your words but only because you've left and have the most problems. Pinch my cheeks and walk away, stay away and play those stupid games with those who are also. These noises mean nothing to any of you, probably nothing to me either but they perform so well and mould together before you've even opened your ears to this, wonderful. Missing out and i'm glad you are.
Narrow minds and dreams which won't be fulfilled. This is the way you chose it and to you it's fantastic and nothing could ever be better. Hilarious, try with the lotto, buy some new clothes and waste the rest on expensive dining where the tastes will be forgotten as soon as you suck on that stick, on interstate trips which won't be remembered apart from the exaggerated stories constantly being repeated to you with fake laughs you voice too loud and look around with horrible eyes thanks to the black markings which have smudged as you force this salty stream. So so so much better than this.