Gazing at the moon,
Sitting like in swoon,
Wanted to be reach, extended, fast
But cowardly swallowed behind window's glass,
Picking up words that match my weak-willed mood
From devil-may-care song, that only brings food
For enforcing despise,
Giving a low price
To the being I treat as my-selfy -
Unkind with things, morally unhealthy,
Who nothing is able to make up well,
Perfect fool, loser-swell.
Would you like to take a closer look at me?
C'mon, you are always allowed to quit at free,
I'll show you total ungoodness, leftover's grace,
C'mon, don't turn away from me your lovely face.