I hope it goes well I hope your dad's good I hope you've got presents That make you pretty happy I hope you grow old and I hope that you find somebody nice
But I can't come to your party, 'cause I think that I'm dead
Thursday, December 17, 2009
We still live in the same town, now don't we? But I don't see you around anymore. I go to all the same places. Not even a trace of you.
Your days are numbered at 24.
I feel no sympathy. You live inside a cave.
Theres no need to apologize. I got no time for "feeling sorry."