Twenty-one years of what exactly was I taught? I believed you two to be super heroes, or so I thought. Turned seventeen realized life's nothing but a thought. I'm thinking I'm alive, but really I'm not. I saw past materialism, chose to sin. Now I hope I can be forgiven, look into the mirror I'm afraid of my reflection. I'm not who I was. I'm not where I am. I don't know who I am. I can't find where to stand. Miss the days when blankets were stronger than Fort Knox, and money had one meaning: to buy train stations, and the chances we took were cards in a box and we didn't use our cars to hotbox but we matched a lot. While momma was tryin' to teach me don't monopolize the TV that's just greedy. Noweverydaygoesbyspeedy and I don't have an effort to make myself peace treaties stuck in my self pity, wallowing like a wallaby with abstract gynecology Twitter-less no one follows me I hate my top eight. I've ruined the recipe but I still eat this teaming plate so I'm just left with a bitter taste.