And when you realize you’re wrong, I’ll already be gone
and you won’t be seeing me again (no not again)
I’ll be dead in a cardboard box in transit back to Long Island.
And you’ll feel the weight of the world on your shoulders
Like I felt the weight of everyone who never gave a fuck about me.

It seems like we had a good start.
But every start has got to stop.
The last words you’ll ever hear from me:
“The only way you can be free is to say,
‘Fuck this place I call my home!’”
I’m giving up the burden that was giving up on me.

I’m going to loose my shit this May. I still can’t believe ASOB tickets are sitting in my desk drawer right now.