My throatsick self caved inOn a Monday, nearlyAlmost had it, held it, in a cold handNot dead, not quite, not yetOnly shook, but in a secYour hands will be all a messDid you leave your city todayWhen the cement was in the way?Did the sun shock your skinOn the running away on a whim?How many years did it takeTo drink up all that lake?I'd rather not go to school I'd rather make my artBut if I can't grow up I'll never be cool Don't wanna go to bedJust wanna not be tiredAnymore. Any more bottles?A thirsty stomach will driveMyself insane, on a planeTraveling 'round this silly worldThe air is much to cold For princes and princesses To grow young into old Their crowns, heavy, immortalThe diamonds, rubies blindingMy own business, I was minding Couldn't help but hearA little me, last night, crying
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