i want you to hear all the words, all the music and tears inside me. it's impossible, but i don't care.

you made me going crasy, hysterical, looking at you and feel myself shaking somewhere sooooo deep that i wasn' sure, if it's not a beer.

that message crossed my dreams of  you by big big big lines and additionally put them in the bin with that disgusting staff.

i'm the biggest trouble for everyone, so why don't you fuck on me and let me live alone? depressed and building my future only with those, who can pretend everything's ok... 

when you call me "friend" sometimes it's the best ever. but what the fuck are you talking about? where were you when i had problems? when i was absolutely alone in the big city, the first thing i wanted was just to talk.

what sort of the fucking friends can you call us, if you even don't know the most impressive thing i had this summer?...

hysteric inside, in my earphones, in my computer... only blue eyes at the wallpaper make me to believe i'll do what i have to do this year.

P.S.: sorry for being rude.