I've been meaning to ask you how life looks from the nose bleed seats, and to ask you how it feels to bleed. Your life's a waste and the way that I'll ask it will have revenge woven throughout, but will be masked with the concern that a friend would bring. You're so incomplete. Hold a mirror to show just what you've become and read your diary to figure out where things went wrong. I don't think I'll ever understand, how a cowardly cat can call himself a man. You're all show and it's getting old. As for the rest of us, we'll do fine with what we have, making the best of what is left. And you're a naysayer who will never know what it's like to really have half a life. I've been meaning to harm you in the best way that I see fit. I'm not sure if this did the trick, but I think It did. Hold a mirror to show just what you've become and read your eulogy to figure out where things went wrong. I hope one day you understand that a girl on your arm won't make you a man. Keep walking down your shallow lonely road. It's dark and cold and it's yours and yours alone. If you dig too deep are you scared you'll find something? Spoonfuls of shit will surely add up. Inside you're begging for a cure for your disease. You're life's a crime scene and it wont help to blame it all on me.