Baby, I'm hunger for your bloods

Vice Versa

Hating people won't make you feel happy.

Wounded

I'm still the old beast.

A reason

You always wanted to know who's gonna cry a lot at your funeral.
Who's gonna feel happier when you're dead.
Who's the  real sober.
Who's actually pretend.

Me too. I wanted to know as much as you want it. To know. To see the faces at your funeral. To see whether your closest friends would come, to see whether your families are going to be sad or they just simply don't.
But how come you ever gonna do that?
You're already dead. Remember?

I've on my worst level, and I can't juggle anymore.
It's way too hectic.
And I just don't love being in gloomy night anymore. No more.

Running through vein

Shit happens constantly beyond my expectations. But hell yeah, I'm a dealer, and I'd deal with tons of shits like zillion times. And I junk with limitations and bullshit and I find myself not too much complicated far ahead.

Instead of just giving head and hope, I just washed away all the stains. Yes I did. And for being clean and whatnot, I am still can't endure such pains of lying and hiding the truth.

I'm being a mind killer. Just tell me the stories, I'll kill it for you. NOT.