• You are empty like a cup,
    That has yet to be filled up.
    I am actually quite the same,
    But my way includes more shame.

    There has yet to be a man,
    who has not but a single fan.
    The entire world I redicule,
    and to the others I'm quite a fool.

    This gloomy ground on which i stand,
    The flowers wither faster,
    I'm the outcast from this world,
    Where people walk right past her.

    The emptiness inside my chest,
    Will never really go to rest.
    This exhausting, fake, decieve lie,
    I've never loved a single guy.

    Empty. Bitter. That is me,
    When will I at last be free?