Nine scabs revisited

I think it's the last one for a while.... because even I can smell the repetition I've been shitting out. Done. I've had enough...(see?...repetition, repetition, repetition....)
so on and so forth.... and there's a suicide note with every song I've made it through, so don't tell me I'm leaving with no explanation. Hands in the air. Eyes on the floor. Just give me fall....
just give me my grey skies and my trees on fire. And if you can't do that, then let me die like the swans (one of the most meaningful bands of all time..) let me die with my dignity and my spirit well intact. That's not too much to ask.... that's not too much to ask and I'm fucking begging....
I'm fucking begging...

I never said I was proud. It's almost time (we're almost gone) I'll be just fine (liar) don't tell me I'll be alright it's seven months until it will be alright two hundred fifteen days until my autumn nights and then I'm fucking done.... I'm fucking done.... done.

(Same old story...i don't want your fucking pills....i don't want your summertime smiles...fuck this place...)