I dare say I'd better go.
I'd better run from a dirty soul.
I'm not a sinner, I'm not insane
But I'm fed up. I end this game.
I have no appetite, no mood
And everything is not so good.
I lose my temper every night
And start to cry when see sunlight.
I take my blanket, take my phone
And I have nothing to switch on.
I take my book and start to read.
Is there anything I need?
They send some messages to me
And ask sometimes who they should be.
Well, I'm not sure who I am.
Why am I answering to them?
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