Forearms can't cover up lies in hiding. Counting makes the only sound. While I wait for hours to be found. So much for making up rules while we're playing. Who cares about the rules anyway? They're for mindless fools and child's play. This time. This time. It's my turn, it's not your turn.
Counting helps the hiding. But what I seek I'm not finding. Ready or not.
Why should it make sense? Why are you so unspontaneous? And why does your way sound the same as yesterday? So I'll shift and bite again. Draw a mark on your skin that turns you the color pink. What exactly will they think of you? This time. This time. It's my turn, it's not your turn.
Counting helps the hiding. But what I seek I'm not finding. Ready or not.
Why are you jealous? overbearing? over-zealous? Is it the lost memory of all those games you played with me? all those games you played with me...
Counting helps the hiding. But what I seek I'm not finding. Ready or not.
Counting helps the hiding. But what I seek I'm not finding. Ready or not