In spite of my spite
I seek respite in the night.
Somewhere to rest my weary head.
This fight is but a blight.
On me, a sophomore nothing more.
Step through door after door.
Just walk right on ahead,
Be sure to mind the gore.
Don’t talk while you walk
Or you’ll end up a mark of chalk.
Cold, bloodied, dead.
There on the cold rock, the sidewalk.
But it’s not that bad, like you said.
Just don’t get too mad or sad.
I’m just tired is all,
Oh well.
