I feel like screaming until there’s nothing left inside of me. Please, don’t push me any further then it already is. So sick of playing, now I feel like I don’t want this anymore. No this, no that, don’t this, don’t that. The thought of you is no longer fucking fun. Call it even, or hell if its mutual. Because enough is enough I’m calling it done. You told me to think about it, and now i did. Now I don’t want to feel a thing anymore. I’m tired of begging for the things that I want. I used to imagined living like a king someday, with you. A single night without a ghosts in the walls. But then you were bass that shakes the world underground.
I bet you never had a night like this.