Sleeping through the evening
singing dreams inside my head
I'm heading out
I've got some ends who say they care
and they just might
I'll run away with you
if things don't go as planned
Planning big could be a gamble
I've already rolled the dice
I spit and stutter stuff and clutter
worries in my worried corner
Maladjusted
Just untrusted
Rusted
Sometimes brilliant busted thoughts
Think I'll stay for a while
I'm intrigued and I'm
Red as a newborn, white as a corpse
Don't you hate it when you write a whole text about teeenage girls, Twilight and Harry P and when you get back to your computer everything is gone, and then on a dreary Sunday evening you just feel like sleeping and eating cookies, so you decide to write your whole text again tomorrow, when your supposed to read for your test on Tuesday? I hate it.
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