misery is my game,
can you take it? i was born to a life in which i was a self portriat of vanity,
i throw the dice, deal the cards. if you dont like it, you can get out if you can.
so if i write these words for you, can you make me a promise?
blink, and im gone, im not sure with the wind or another source.
can you prove me wrong?
close your eyes, act like you’ll never wake up.
but you will, and i’ll be hanging over you,
like every regret you’ve ever had to face.
would you rather stay asleep? yeah me too. 
i walk and talk at the same time,  so fast can you keep up with this, are you writing this down?
take notes, your eyes are shining with celestial things
things im not sure i want to see.
ink drips across the page, do you feel this?
just for the record, i never liked you anyway.
blood replaces the ink.
“closeur” isn’t what im looking for,but you get the picture.