These ***** ****** they want to **** me with their devil horns, probably because I'm above the norm, or maybe just because I'm normal. I'm always invited to the party, but it's never formal. Walking down the corn rows, a little child is chasing after wielding a knife of some sort. I stop and smile back and we both erupt in laughter. Skating by the pasture, maybe I just shouldn't write, maybe I should end my life. I don't know who can save me. I feel like all my friends deep down they hate me. It doesn't matter anyway, they're all complacent, mangy little hippy wannabes. None of you could match any one of me because you can only see as far as eyes can see and I can see that you've been so blatantly dishonest and untruthful. I hope you die in a bowl of cereal because you're all a bunch of fruit loops. God if you're there please show me your sympathies and destroy all of my enemies. I can  sometimes hear the symphonies while I'm overdosing choking on *******. Hopefully I'll die in infamy something like Cobain. I had a nine millimeter once and tried to blow out my brain, but it jammed. Maybe I'm just ****** to living this awful life. That's capital punishment if you ask me. Only if I died would I truly be free. Sink me in a ship at the bottom of the sea.