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what's meant to happen, will find its way.
but what if it's lost, do i just wait & pray?
i don't like to sit around and not have control.
control of my life i like to think, i'm not on parole.
my father hasn't seen me, past curfew again.
it's cause i'm stuck in my car, stuck at the station.
hit the train, my locomotive revs to a start.
but then my compartment's break apart.
bring them together again so i can realign the track.
this is my life, everything i do is just an awaiting crack.
i take more hits then facebook does on sunday nights.
and my head throbs of decision making fights.
which are usually wrong, cause i always think too late.
then i'm sitting in my bed, like this, writing oh f***ing great.
i guess it's my queue to leave the keyboard, my eyes closed.
now i shall sleep horrendous nightmares, as i dozed.