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is it 2 late 4 me

20 years my senior

a bad math teacher

every passing grade

you just got meaner

somebody hurt me when i was a kid

and i never grew out of it

Well, now you're trying to do something

Now you're trying to be something

You want to be someone who counts

But you think about the times you did

They took every ounce

the thought of you leaves me with a heavy chest

hungry baby

want sugar baby

stole is vintage

waxed rag and bone

frye

i feel found when estranged from familiarity

being alive still is humiliating

Everything grosses me out.

lost

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