I like to stay up late,
For no reason at all.
Off the edge of my bed,
Waiting for a phone call.
I've never taken a step outside,
My life revolves around myself,
And by god no else could help me see,
what is truly right in front of me.
I like to write long boring statements,
About girls who like a guy,
Practically living in his mother's basement,
Bragging about how little I try,
To do anything at all,
It's hard when we're so fucking small.
I see people on screens,
Making millions for being obscene.
Suggesting oppressive idea's,
That everyone else seems to care about.
Is it too late to sleep it off,
Could I possibly wake up,
And be ok with what I've done?
Is it too late to admit,
That being scared isn't even the half of it.
I like to hide behind,
Walls I built with time.
I guess I find it easier to lie,
Than to ever let light leave my eyes.
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