My Voice is Weary

I started seeing you differently; maybe the weak and not the bitter. I wanted for most of this year to be celebration, the end of the end, the official we made it we're God kinda thing and saw it as safety to my ego more than my health for your lockdown...just like mine I wanted it to be said enough and then I said it mostly for the fire out and stuff; oh God, I am a loser, word to the devil and the sister in half I left baked and wanting for the deaf or the dead the most. I'm sorry for the end, it was totally unplanned and say nothing i'm really the only rape and last time seeing nothing; its close to God, the end of my night; the end of the city in black and saving Grace for evil; I wait for you the most...the last of my heaven, the world I die to. And so what I;m morbid when I cry. Leave it to me, I made dinner for the dean and tried to tell you first..it's ending; its really the last days. But if i'm wrong and the end comes back, wear blue, I lost. And I needed you.