Gone with the wind. I wonder what was all about the little tears and the little pinky promises. You getting away, your secretive life. Well, maybe the talks are the staircase were all a facade, or its just simply the past. Maybe its your obsession with self, or it could be your individualistic character. Somehow, once i seem to be of no value anymore you just get over and done with it.
Our intentions to send you off. And all we got was ignorance. You’re no superstar, i don’t have to suck up to you. So if maybe you think that the trip down along with two of my friends, and two of them who was nice enough to consider the fact that making a trip down along with me is worth their time just to send you off, and yet you brutally just turned us away and make it seem as though we’re tied to some obligations to see you off, i pretty much guess you were wrong.
And at the point in time, it doesn’t matter to me what your intentions were, for all i bother about is the fact that i mean virtually nothing to you anymore, so much for me showing so much concern, and so much for that pathetic promise. It wasn’t a promise as for as i’m concern now, i was just blabbering rubbish that night.
