After all something needs to be blamed
Not like I could call my sun sign an Avacado
And pretened to behave like a glorified mess
How do some of these men and women do it?
Pin something of your own attitude on poor Linda's money making
Forever remain in the flight of your teens
Forever disconnected from absolute reality and awakening
So here I go rampant, all out in deriving you
Imbibing your essence into my soul and blood
Knowing that at the end you shall at best discard and despise me
And I shall blame the Rosenthal effect for my lunacy
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