He ran out of things to say
How could he run out of things to talk about?
His tongue, was drying out
Another sixty seconds
He wouldn't even be able to make a sound
I'm scared, he's scared
Dead air, Dead air, Dead air
You could **** a lot of things
And nobody would look twice
Dead air, Dead air
He was still grinning
Does he not know?
I'm dead inside
Home no longer a saftey zone
He comes
I'm here, I'm yours, I'm sick
I just wanted to be famous
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 4:54 PM UTC
He ran out of things to say
How could he run out of things to talk about?
His tongue, was drying out
Another sixty seconds
He wouldn't even be able to make a sound
I'm scared, he's scared
Dead air, Dead air, Dead air
You could **** a lot of things
And nobody would look twice
Dead air, Dead air
He was still grinning
Does he not know?
I'm dead inside
Home no longer a saftey zone
He comes
I'm here, I'm yours, I'm sick
I just wanted to be famous
Just a little poem, written as an assignment from my teacher
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