HE WAS PREACHING AT THE BUS STOP, HE WAS DRUNK,

DRUNK ON MOUTHWASH, TALK SHIT

HE A FOR A CIGARETTE I GAVE HIM A MINT

A LADY ASKED WILL THE SIX SOON

HE ASKED HER IF SHED LIKE TO TAKE A TRIP TO THE MOON

HIS SARCASM REEKED OF LONELINESS

AND I KNOW I HATED HIM THROUGH THE SNOW I COULD SEE A REFLECTION

FRAGILE IS THE HELL WE MAKE FOR OURSELVES WHEN WE ACKNOWLEDGE
THAT THE SPOTLIGHTæ‰' ON.

HE WAS GETTING MORE OBNOXIOUS AND HE WOULDN扵 QUIT

EVEN THOUGH OUR FACES READ YOU扲E FULL OF SHIT

AND THEN SHE SPLIT FOR ANOTHER STOP

HE WAS ASKING FOR A SMOKE AND HE WAS PISSED I SAID NO

HE MADE A FIST SO I PULLED OUT MY DICK 揟RY SMOKING THIS?

SO SIMILAR IT WAS KILLING ME, SO FULL OF SHIT AT ONLY 15.

FRAGILE IS THE HELL WE MAKE FOR OURSELVES WHEN WE ACKNOWLEDGE
THAT THE SPOTLIGHTæ‰' ON.

HE WAS ME IN HIGH SCHOOL, A STEREO-TYPE, A WELL-TRAINED TOOL

BUT SINCE THEN I扸E LEARNED THAT ALL CLOWNS AREN扵 FOOLS

BUT IF THE ME OF THEN COULD SEE ME NOW,
I扢 SURE HE WOULDN扵 LISTEN UP ANYHOW

HEæ‰