When people first see me they see a girl
lost in the swamps of ideals
a diva trying to conquer the world
When people first read my words they see a girl
lost in fields of pseudo intellectuality
they see a pitiful sould tied up in madness
when people first see me they see a girl
lost on the marches of cyclical consumption

But you should know, that even I dream of living in the forrest.
And many of my nails have been broken, I’m not dead am I?