Seems we were on a fast-track to absolutely nowhere
Your fruit-loop attitude turning out to be anything but a much-promised early-doors cup full of glorious
Those lies – they seem to peel the fairytale life right from your breath-altering kaleidoscope eyes
Everything turning out to be altogether mind-boggling kinds of monotonous as a seriously piercing result, both of us falling oh so very worryingly on out of quickscope touch it really is beginning to start to steal my equally hollow breath all of the way over again
So you know, I never held mine whatsoever, barely-there sober
I do regret to have ever even tried to quench any of this play-pretend ego-driven thing in the first instance
For you and I do seem to have turned out to be all of nothing entirely
And to finally settle all old scores, I am oh so infuriatingly sorry that I ever let myself in to see you in the first place
A seriously whisky-laced rumble with these lock-jawed and lacklustre sharks who seem to somehow still continue to want to stalk a lonely author’s everything

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