I could dig your grave with a needle. It'd be worth my time knowing you'd died. I know it's mean, me coming clean. You broke me, you broke us all. I built a cross and I carried it for you. In the end it came unglued. I wondered, "What now should I do?" A cross is just wood without killing to do. I don't know who I am. I know who I'm not. Admit that, admit it to yourself. It'd do wonders for you.
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