the future’s scary.
the leaves they start to brown and fall
and death begins to comfort me.
six feet under rotting.
is it too late?
i’m sorry for all my mistakes.
is this my fate?
or can my soul be saved?
stuck between heaven and hell.
don’t know where i belong,
but i know that i’m not well.
is it too late?
to stop myself from rotting away?
don’t let me rot away.
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