I just wanted to be somebody.
Now, I’m somebody else.
I never thought I’d be alone.
But here I am.
I wish I’d known my own thoughts.
Before I threw them all away.
My crushed dreams are me.
I’m one and alone with all of them.
There’s no more dreams.
I’d hate to have more.
The registration of my demolition.
My brains and my body.
Annihilated and immigrated into dirt.
I’m not worth it and neither is any of this.
All my dreams were just dreams.
I don’t deserve to get lucky.
It’s all fun and games until reality hits.
Then bills need paying and I’m broke.
What’s funny is I’m broke all the time anyway.
Why?
To be a fucking artist.
So some asshole can get lucky.
And here I am working a shit job to pay the bills.
Life’s not fair unless I’m pulling hairs.
I wish for dreams to never come true for me or for you.
