quarta-feira, julho 30, 2014

!

I want stuff to much, to much to ever get it.
If I desire it, I break it. 

Come tell me that it ain't my fault.
Come tell me it ain't my dog.

I feel stuff to little, to little to understand it.
If I need it, I'll screw it.

Come tell me that I ain't my devil.
Come tell me I ain't my hole.

I need peace to soon, to soon to deserve it.
If I want it, I'll taste it, and feel lacking.

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