[Skit]
My life is too sad. *Sob* Fuck my life. *Sob* I’m fat. *Sob* I’m a faggot. *Sob* I hate my life. *Sob* I’m fake *Sob* and gay, *Sob* that’s why *Sob* people leave me. *Sob* Goodbye, *Sob* Guys. *Sob*
*Slash* Aah! *Blood dribble* Good-ba-bye, Ga-guys. *ECG dead sound*

[Intro:]
1 cut, 2 cut, 3 cut, 4 cut, 5 cut, 6 cut, 7 cut, 8 cut, 9 cut, 10 cut, 11 cut, 12 cut- This might not re-revolve, 13 cut might kill, bitch. Cut and add a stitch. No stitches? Fine, a bandage. Might not be a cut; a scar. It’ll give a bad itch. Doesn’t matter if you’re fucked up, you don’t need to cut or lynch
A adoring boyfriend, and a abhorring boy friend. Getting a boyfriend is a honey coy trend. Getting a boy friend is funny toy trend. Your crush becomes your best friend, and your other crush becomes your boyfriend. Your best-friend wanted the same boyfriend, but she ended up having him as a boy friend
After you having a boyfriend, I saw something troubling you. Not single, but no one is cuddling you, but can’t cuddle you. Saying it in international lingual, so you can understand it well. You had troubles and problems; depressions and condemns; news and quondam. People are coming less and leaving more. Sadness grew sore. Pessimism made you feel lour. That’s why, you cunt, you wanted to cut. Cut a few strips of arteries, and go away from your responsibilities and your fucked up goddamn worries
So you just cut...

[Verse: 1]
You cut for fun, or you need to run from the responsibilities; you’re a LITTLE LUN.Intentional Accident, you’re gone
Female Middle-Aged Voice: Why did you do that hon’? *Sob* We gave you everything you want. *Sob*
Masculine Young Voice: Why did you have to hunt yourself, you juice of cunt
Female Young Voice: You got a boyfriend and an engagement. Waited so long to call you ‘Aunt’
Masculine Middle-Aged Voice: She didn’t think of us, *Sob* she didn’t dare to look at us. So we shan’t
*Pop* Thought about them? No, you didn’t. This is a mayhem. Now, don’t pretend that you thought about that. If you did so, how could you leave them? Don’t you want the birthday cake, and is that too late to say, “Sorry, mate.” I know you forgot about that and you got hate
Forgot about the ‘big’ hit, for which I fell sick. I became mentally sick; you became love-sick. No wooed around people to find love. So sick! You prickled, you bleed. You’re hurt. You hurt yourself, blame on others, and then cut yourself. You’re hurt, you made a post that you’re fucking de-depressed. You commented that boys don’t get hurt, and on the keyboard I pressed:
Hurt হয়, but rare… the sensible ones are dying every day. Morphing from sensible to an asshole
Yeah, that’s where they go to be hit; to be shit. They are now stinky shit. Someone said to ‘cut the crap’. They’re hurt, they’re cut, they’re burnt. They need stitches, they need treatments. To build up, they need cements
And no time to be sensible. If they do that, they’ll be a sissy ball

[Verse: 2]
No place for the kind in the world; they look for the beauty; this is the Glamour World. Everyone want to look a bit more beautiful. It is pitiful. We are all silly fools
You fell for him; he’s Anonto. He’s just pretty and slim- “Look it’s the gangly bro! Haha!” To you, he is beautiful. Out of nowhere, I’m pitiful
Might not be like Anonto but:
I saw a problem and this is a trouble. And someone needs to keep you jubilant, but I wasn't so closened. Tried to keep you contented. Luckily your friends were there for you. I can’t be there for you. You want the D, and to make love. [But] I say I’m not sexual, they say I’m auto-sexual. I’m a fucking hetero. That doesn’t matter, cause I don’t want you as a sex doll. But in the heart you’re a trillion degrees. Nothing can cool you, can a breeze? What are those? Freckles? Nah, that’s nothing. Those cuts? Nah, just fuck it. Think you need to treat it, it’s a cut; it’s a scar. A mark left on life when it was blurry

[Outro:]
You have problems. You friends. Bestie with fashion trends. Beautiful country with tropical winds. Nepal, snowy and windy. 7 Inches, fav kind of male willie. Cowgirl, doggy style, will he? You love One Direction. Trollers troll: One D erection. Nothing will happen, let them have he infection of the great lovely affection. Haters will hate, lovers will love. And you’ll shake dat ass for him. Seduction and impregnation. Love and lust; 50 shades of Grey dust. Be optimistic, you’re beautiful. Be real, be `fat. Someone interferes between, eat ‘em too. (Why did you have to cut yourself?)
You cut yourself to lose yourself. Replenish, and ooze yourself. Motivate and boost yourself. Decapitate or cut yourself. Aggravate and rag yourself. Thousands of words in a bookshelf. Read the books and find yourself. (They say) At least one book in the world is about you. (They also say) writers are miraculous, they write miracles. Miracles to take you places; make you face; meet you thesis; show you races; illustrate disasters; make you feel ‘refugee’; Make you express ‘Oh my god! Jeez!’. Writers and architects both design miracles. You wanted to be an architect. Why did you have to cut?
[Skit]
1 cut, 2 cut, 3 cut, 4 cut, 5 cut, 6 cut, 7 cut, 8 cut, 9 cut, 10 cut, 11 cut, 12 cut, 13 cut, 14 cut, 15 cut, 16 cut, 17 cut, 18 cut, 19 cut, 20 cut, 21 cut, 22 cut, 23 cut. *Slash* *Blood dribble* Hi, Shadita