The Trend Killer

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here I am another
waiting writing killing trends
Someone that lost his mind,
someone that lives in pain
poor words empty and lame,
back on to paper now

I'm sick of all this lies that I write about you
Death phrases empty words poetry
that's not true
It's always fading fast
when I am around you
A knife a pill a botle when i think about you

Now my words are turning old and faded
and in the end
I'm geting so use to suffer,
I'm geting so use to pain again
This is the end,
I'm dome oh I'm trough now

I'm sick of all this lies that I write about you
Death phrases empty words poetry
that's not true
It's always fading fast
when I am around you
A knife a pill a botle when i think about you

I let you ghost into my room
Always welcome on my drunken evenings