Good riddance, Requiem.
Good riddance, shit of a year.
Good riddance, shit ex-friend
Requiem, for cheese.
Requiem, for my only friend at work.
Requiem, pizza.
Requiem, requiem.
For all I'll really miss.
Good riddance, crushing depression
Good riddance, shit of a year.
Good riddance, Dr Evil
Burn in hell, motherfucker.
Requiem for all my dreams.
Requiem for finding a partner.
Requiem for broken hopes
And all I've tried to be.
Good riddance, Requiem.
Say goodbye to your dreams.
Requiem.
Say goodnight to your future,
there isn't one.
Requiem.
Good riddance, shit of a year.
Good riddance, hell inside my head
Instead now I got on
this dark road, no idea
what to do
what to say
What...to be.
Requiem for barbecues,
turkeys, ham, anything
older than two weeks' time.
Requiem for macaroni with cheese,
"But I've put gorgonzola on it!"
Thanks, man, but that will
only kill me, and I don't
want to spoil your party.
I'll have the salad and water, thanks.
Good riddance, self-beatings,
say hello to cigarrettes,
say hello to the dumbest shit of all.
Smoke, inhale, puff, I'm gone.
Hopefully I'll be gone.
Good riddance, Requiem.
No more snacks, Requiem.
No more bacon, Requiem.
No more pepperoni, Requiem.
Requiem.
Have a good life, bye-bye.
Last line on a communication error.
Last line I'll ever write you,
ex friend of mine.
Good riddance.
Say hello to debt,
shitty credit cards,
of a shitty bank.
Say hello to useless purchases,
try to fill the void inside
with all this stuff,
I bought and didn't
even needed them.
Over 2K on debt, hell of a year,
overboard, overheard.
Say hello to the skinhead look
And handlebars, once again
Why?
Because I'm a clown,
a piece on the chessboard,
a peon. Trapped between
the bishop and queen.
Have a laugh, have a laugh,
type L-O-L on you twitter,
facebook, instagram,
whatever floats your internet boat.
Blogs? They don' matter no more.
No one reads more than five sentences
in a row. No one reads. Everyone
Assumes.
Good riddance, Requiem.
Requiem for me,
for I'm alive
but dying inside
withering, day by day.
Requiem, for the crazy old loon,
shouting and cursing,
ripping off the medicine cabinet
and tossing it away.
As if I could be tossed that way.
As if I could toss away all my errors,
my life.
This void. Requiem.
Good riddance, fairy doctor,
who kept me numb enough
for almost four years.
Say hello to Parnate,
say goodbye to cheese.
say hello to erectile disfunctions
and weight gain.
Say goodbye to you,
all of you, that never
reads anything I'd write here.
"A blog?" What's this, 1996?
No facebook no more,
no twitter, no whatsapp
nothing at all.
I'm off the grid
because I ain't got
internet on my cell phone.
Phone? No one calls.
Say hello to this pocket
watch and alarm.
Overpriced, overhyped.
Say hello to this crescendo,
of misantropy and misantrophobia.
Misantrophobia, yes.
Ain't foun on dictionaries,
doesn't exist.
Ah, but it does. It does.
It lives. Inside of me.
But today's supposed to be great,
many parties to attend, right?
Fireworks, fake hugs,
"Happy new year."
Happy?
Say a Requiem for happiness
recite it out loud, as the casket
descends, into the void
The void of existance.
Requiem for weed,
for it depresses them addicts,
like me, just like me.
Requiem, my only true
female lover, Maria Joana.
Requiem.
Everyone's thrilled and excited,
so many parties tonight!
Fireworks! Drugs!
Legalized shit, like beer
and cancer sticks,
like the one I've got
right now, another punch
to the lung.
So I still beat myself, who cares?
So I won't go to anyone's party,
who cares? And there was never
any invitation at all.
Requiem.
No more friends,
no more true friends,
just like Nymeria
And the sex addict,
whose mom won't let us
even meet no more.
Good riddance, snow white,
you've failed miserably.
no euphoria, no sense of
overall good feeling,
just the feeling of being
pushed out of a building.
Requiem, my love,
I know you are dead and gone,
I just know it.
"Plenty of fish in the sea,"
not for me. Freaks don't
get dates, don't get kisses,
don't got nothing but a sandwich
in my pocket.
No money, no future, and it's
getting worse and worse,
year by year.
An internal scream
everytime I see people,
that bunch of bastards.
Irrational fear, fear.
Requiem, to all you
were supposed to do,
but didn't - because
you weren't here at all,
off to la-la-la land,
stoned as shit,
shit as shit.
Requiem.
December 31st.
I don't care.
I'll wear my earplugs,
and go off to my
only refuge left,
sleep.
I'd sleep all my life away,
If I just could. Requiem.
All my friends, they'll
be partying all night,
"Welcome 2015! May it
be as good as last year's
advance in my career"
I'll be asleep. Turned off.
Switched off by Clonazepan
And Pamelor. And lithium.
Switched off.
Requiem.
