ɪꜰ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴘɪɴᴋ
ɪꜰ ɪ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ
ꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ
ᴡɪʟʟ ɪ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ
ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ
ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ
ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ
ɪꜰ ɪ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ
ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ɴᴏꜱᴇ
ᴡɪʟʟ ɪ ꜰʟʏ
ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴍᴇ
ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ
ɪꜰ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ
ᴡɪʟʟ ɪ ʟɪᴠᴇ

These are the hands that will guide you to greatness,
These are the hands that will stay through the years,
These are the hands that will celebrate good times,
And these are the hands that will wipe away tears.

These are the hands that will love you forever;
When you are weak they will help you feel strong,
And, right now, since these hands are entwined together
These hands are precisely where they belong

Perhaps I am an evil man,
Perhaps I am; I cannot tell;
I try to do the best I can,
But know I do not do it well.

Perhaps there is a space for me
In some unknown corner of hell,
Where hope reigns for eternity,
And nothing ever breaks its spell.

For hope is, when all's said and done,
The worst of things a man can suffer;
It keeps us traipsing, one by one,
From one disaster to another.

Perhaps it's best to just give up;
Immerse myself in a life of sin,
Drink good wine, and raise a cup
To my worst enemy- Nigel Finn.

Talking about our feelings
Can benefit our mental health
And, with that in mind, I'd like to say;
Anxiety can **** itself.

It sneaks up like a ninja;
It knows the art of stealth,
But I have to teach it new things;
Like how to go and **** itself.

It bothers me with social stuff,
It screams about my wealth,
Until I can simply take no more,
And scream right back; "Go **** yourself!"

It's a nasty little demon!
It's a horrid little elf!
It's the thing I hate the most,
And it needs to go and **** itself.

Yes- talking about our feelings
Can benefit our mental health,
And, with that in mind, I'd like to say;
"Anxiety can **** itself!"