Sometime in June
Im always embarrassed and always ashamed of adolescent me
I was pretty mean and not so nice intolerance just was my vice
And now its hurting me
Grew up with the wrong crowd things funny then aren’t funny now and it’s so embarrassing
I think of slitting my wrists, but that me no longer exists
I wanna bury it deep in the ground
So why was that me
Now picking up my own debris