> The Darkener's Console

A seedy-looking individual with a large bag just wandered through the room.

Sick of Your Shit —

I could write another letter
I could call you on the phone
I could exercise my vocal cords
Or play a sad trombone

I could do so many other things
But when I think of it
The only thing I’d end up saying is,
“I’m sick of all your shit”


Categorised as: [OC] Original Content | Humor | Lyrics, Poetry



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