It makes me sick. I don’t ever want fame.
To live, breath, and think it, and die the same
I laugh in the box, while you make me ill
Born the intentions means I own the kill
Silly is an intelligent, when proven otherwise
Silly is behind my face and seen in my disguise
Watching out while looking in
I’m tired of the spies and wonder
How I found my shame and blame myself for falling under
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