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I do not know several things in life.
I do not have an eye that measures strife.
I do not know a lot of things that which you speak.
But in my mind I nod, you don't seam meak.
For your mind is expanded like so.
Maybe in the future you won't act like a ho.
I see you.
Everyday.
All your pain.
Drugs and guys, they look the same, like the needle in your arm.
We onced promised each other we would raise a farm.
But look at you now. I do not know.
How has it, you've grown so old.
Your knowledge is of the street life.
Your words of pain hit me like a knife.
When will you come back to me?
Hoes no little of being free.
You don't have to answer to a man dressed in fur.
A purple hat, and maybe a cane. These aren't you for sure.
Leave that filthy world behind.
For you do not know, what I know is kind.