I just don't love my stuff that much
You know what I'm interested in
What I'm gonna type tomorrow night
That's all what I'm interested, there's poem, the next f*cking line
What's past is past, I don't wanna linger over it
Read it and play with it and
Jewelry it up, it's gone, it's done
If you can't write the next line, well, you're dead
The past doesn't matter
You're used to write every night
Not every night, three or four out of seven
If I don't get those then I
Don't act right, I feel seek I
Get very depressed
It's a relief, it's a relief
It's my psychiatrist letting the shit out
Eheh, cheers