| it's dark here i like the dark it's somewhat dold yet again so warm such a combination of bitter feelings all combined i don't understand it should i i do not think so no one asks that not of me that is good i am cold cold with a chill yet warm warm with spite why do i feel this way i should let by-gones be simple by-gones yet i do not i refuse there are some limits these are surpassed when love becomes a bitter difference this can't be sorted out not amongst the worst nor the best bitterness is fickle |