I’ve not a thing
Just want to go home
Just want to sing
But I’m all alone.
No one ever stays
I can’t blame
Be on your way
Forget my name.
I don’t want to be here
Seldom, anymore
To be used and binned
As your Destiny’s Whore.
I will die in real time if
You treat me as any sort of chore.
“It’s being managed,
But no one’s on board.”
