Does it hurt, when you see How I've done Without you Thought that I couldn't belong Never thought that you could be so cruel All you need is some friends Won't be by yourself Let's go round and round and round and round and are-o-you-nd
Now who the hell are you, to treat me like that? I don't care where you've been, what you've done, or where you're at Now who the hell are you, to act the way you do? You won't be smiling by the time I'm through with you Now who the hell are you?
I am ready to write in my blood that Ibby and her ikea couch will never divorce. I served on them once and those two are absolutely in love with each other, in a will-die-for-each-other way even if the couch was repossessed by the bank because it was paid for by scammed monies from well meaning robbed thieved and bamboozled online anons. They are the couple that will pass away in their eighties within days of each other in a velvet couch found on Craigslist with coffee stains, ride or die till the end when the popo knocks their door down for the impending Fraud arrest
The race is on to get out of the bottom The top is high so your roots are forgotten Giving is good as long as you're getting What's driving you it's ambition and betting
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