I'm Here, Got No Choice.

Here I Am And There Is My Body Dancing On Glass.

I Feel Like I’m Eighty Years Old. I’m Tired Of Life And My Mind Wants To Die.

Please. Don’t Switch Off My Mind By Attempting To Straighten Me Out. Listen And Understand, And When You Feel Contempt Don’t Express It, At Least Not Verbally, At Least Not To Me.

No Boy Is Worth Crying Over, And The One Who Is Won't Make You Cry.

Death Is My Lover And He Wants To Move In.