Suddenly you ruin my whole day, when I was working like a hell. I guess you're just a bad, bad news. And just a disaster.
I know everything's happen for a reason. And what about your problem?
I guess I'll said this like Norah Jones:
How does it feel? How does it feel to be you right now, dear?
And when you said some dirty words to all the peoples, does it trustful? Or it's just your tongue that need to be cut of into a pieces, because the world is in peace when you're shut up, dear. Just shut up. Oh my freakin' God, give your tongue a break a while.
That's why I called you a little fucking thing.
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