One. Two. Three. Four!. . I fucked up again it's all my fault. So turn me around to face the wall. And read me, my rights and tell me, I am wrong. Until it gets into my thick skull.
Alright. To know you is to hate you. So loving you must be like suicide. Well I don't mind if you don't mind. Well I'm not the one that's going to die.
Something breaks inside of you. With the spectacle of all the shows. With fifteen fights and your six bucks. Has gone up some promoters nose.. Jaded eyes see clearly, but only half of what's there.