Sickness.





I remember I changed and the world didn't care so I hate her;

the sun hit my face and I cowered away thinking the dark is much better;

I sat in a rage as I watched myself age because It didn't really matter;

the thought of feeling good made me sick as the voices grew in my head so increasingly faster;

taking drugs to feel sane as I melted away to see something that everyones after;

I know I gave up because my teeth fell out of my head and my *** became ever much fatter;

so I light up my cigarette with a cake in my hand and think I wonder what happened to Peter.