Remembering times when I despised being me always reminds me of those times when I used to flee to those colourful places where roses have no thorns, snow isn’t cold, ... I would throw myself down - Inhale death!
"... and you be grateful for all the shit that you got!" Well, the shit that I’ve got is the shit that I got from you and you never gave shit (about me)
(If you) keep hitting/beating the child, then (eventually) it will think it deserved it!
Reach inside the place I hide I wouldn’t mind a dream tonight