Should have looked back before, Not now when u saw the green button glow, Thing of the times i created from scratch, Not about the stuff that i gave you to last. "Greetings", "Hello" and How are you all gone, Talking back when i said, Festivals here so i waved at you all some, Eventhough I knew i would get back the same old slump, So i dont give a thing when you say "Hi" like none. Call me cold as one of the iclelands can get, I was thrown in the abyss when i really wanted to care, Care, the one that ate the soul alive, So never will it bloom as april at nine. You all killed the sprout with no water and yarn, And you sit waiting for the fruit to blossom and fall, Will it happen? may be it will if the rains arrive, Cos this garden is a dessert now, Without water and wine. the mind doesnt give a thing no more.
