I see you take off to the sunset
As night takes over my parade.
You celebrate your mistakes,
While I beg for your beholden.
You recklessly walk on your stage,
While I clean up your stains.

Thou you have it all
You dissemble as if you were nearly
A peasant.

I who is envious of your ways
I who is before you, I tell you this
Life isn’t ever a success it can only be a result and your result’s are going bathos before your eyes.