A l'abandon, trop de travail, pas assez de temps, envie de sortir, envie d'acheter des fringues, toujours plus, de sortir, mes frustrations finiront par s'envoler quand j'aurais suffisamment consommé !
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C'est toi la légende.
PENDANT QUE LE LOUP N'Y EST PAS.
Je ne me souviens plus très bien de toi, étais-tu une chips ?
J'aime le poivron jaune.
C'est toi la légende.
T'emballe pas, chéri.
J'étais pas venue te faire des excuses, me flageler devant toi, tout ça. Non, je suis juste là par narcissisme, je rode, j'ère, je me montre, je suis là pour qu'on me voit. C'est tout.
Et si ça te blesse en plus, ça m'arrange même.
Et si ça te blesse en plus, ça m'arrange même.
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darknest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have pomise to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darknest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have pomise to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
J'veux pas de toi, tu sais, c'est elle qui nous l'a dit.
Alors on ira boire un verre ensemble et à la fin tu pleureras. Puis quand t'auras fini je te dirais merci que t'es pas folle et qu'on s'est bien marrées. Puis je partirais et tu te remettras à pleurer. Tu fais chier.
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers.Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends.Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life.But who would I want to do a thing like that?I chose not to choose life: I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who need reasons when you've got heroin?
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