A Walking, Talking Catastrophe

You and everyone else. From the hours of twelve to twelve.

Your lies, I can't always tell. You played yourself. Look at you,

your ego swells. But I'm done wishing you well, my love. You fumbled every

card you dealt. Now you're crying to somebody else. Was it always

in your plan to play the victim endlessly? 'Cause honestly there's no one else

with your audacity. A walking, talking catastrophe. In a room

full of people, they all see through you. Would you face me or just

talk behind my back like you do? Tell me, was anything you