Yes, I get depressed sometimes.
My parents are divorced.
But life is not a tragedy,
and I'm not in remorse.
I still live in my modest house
with brothers who too far will roam,
and a mother who takes it out on us
in a house that is never a home.
But I keep my head down, not my chin up.
It's better to hide that way.
I guess I shouldn't hold my breath,
I guess I'll live another day.
Sometimes I wish I were gangster
That my life was in ruins, appalled.
I guess that makes me a pretty bad girl,
but a bad life is better then no life at all.
I guess I'm just doomed for this.
A world where no one gives a shit.
Or gives just one too many
and are too afraid to quit.
But I still move on, I'm still alive,
Yes, I my heart still just beats.
I live a life where all is well,
And wrath, envy defeats.
I guess what I am getting at
is that I'd like to know.
Whether my dry desert life
will ever get some snow.
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