Life without you runs so slow,
while you are busy there working with soul.
Awaiting you amid the hectic lives,
it feels like an old man dying alive.
I don’t want you to meet men and guys
fearing a repeat of that scenario
that will hurt the rest of mine.
I know I should be thankful to him
who made me deperately write those lines.
Yet his disgustingly smirking face
smelling like a freaky dickhead
is telling me
he’d like making love on whims.
Guys like him should be hated by me.
Guys like him could give you anything but love the way I give.