f**!
I've fallen on my face.
I'm crawling, crutch is blurry.
Up, scurry to my safest space.
Once I'm back in these tapestries,
Rolling up and blowing out my worries...
They're all smacking and laughing at me,
But I know that means "No, V, don't fury,
Its gonna be okay...
How do you think all of us clowns rounded up to this day?"
Hey...
Nobody knows what they're doing.
Nobody grows what they're sewing through
Until its overcame,
There isn't Novacane,
You've got to grope the pain or GAME OVER,
Then comes the hangover...
But everyone is so ashamed!
Cuz they don't have friends to clear the dust,
They only hear the serious sneering...
I've no clue why you lie this two cents.
Loos abuse construes no solution.
I'll stay true to my taboo prudence.
I confess: I'm a mess!
I'm blessed!
~I'm human~
Shooting for the stairs.
Shooting for the stairs.
Proving that they care,
They will say,
"You're crazy-
Now take a beer and think about what you have done,
As we poke apart your lunacy for fun."
It f**ing s**s but mother luck has everyone
On rotation for that chair,
For freedom will's affair.
I don't even care,
So I'm a millionarre.
Shooting for the Stairs.
So zoom in-
I'm only human.