Your sun won’t come at morning and your moon will turn gray.
You’ll find yourself blue, and you’ll see there’s no one who really cares around you.
You’ll feel cold and without a shelter.
You’ll feel generous, but nobody’s gonna want you.
You’ll feel sick and you’ll blame the world.
You’ll have a dream and you’ll wake up and see that dreams weren’t make to be more than dreams.
You’ll wish that you were dead.

Well, when this day comes, just know that it’s me, working on my evil side to make you suffer like I did. Like I do.



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