Biffy Clyro Piano Mountains

Adoles ... What?




Rabia.
I feel rage.
I say it's because of age, I'm young and I do not know what happens. I say this is the best part of life, and that one day, despite everything, I will remember fondly. I say evil of adolescence is passing too fast, and you do not learn that until it happened ... that's it, until it has passed and then miss.
Okay, so that's good.
I mean I give a damn all that stuff. It hurts me here and now, and what comes tomorrow ... come tomorrow. At worst I run out of adolescence and the day before a consistent catches me and goodbye. So the promise of a better tomorrow and full of beautiful memories of the past I slip, I give a damn pepper. I'm sick of my adolescence. Tired of feeling bad and do not know why. Harta of wanting to mourn, and cry, and love and many more, without knowing where they come from or where they go, like my head had a black hole from which escape me energy. Funny
all that damn roll adolescence. Who would think the buzzword? Anda Why are not stupid or anything! Do-do-les-cen-ing! Sounds like Disneyland, but sinister. Pure camouflage. I hate it.
I have to do something. I have to do something. I have to do something.
and do nothing.
What if I do nothing? Jo
adolescence! Last roll!
But I know what affects me. I know you feel angry. That's what I know, what counts and all that I care. A strong rage chokes me, I dominate, that makes me so, with that face and that pose, and anguish. To be the best part of my life, it hurts too much. So it can not be.
And that that happens very quickly ... I think it took forever anchored here, with moving, still. Every day, every week, every month. The weekend passed in a blink of an eye, but from Monday to Friday, time moves very slowly. Summers are a breath, the rest are dormant. Study, the daily fights, bad rolls, "see what you will do tomorrow", "if you always put a face ..."," say something, right? "," Studies, study, study "... Everything is against us. Against me. Everything. What is it? For everyone. That's it: everything.
And what happens with what I like to me? TO ME. Not them. TO ME. What if I want to live, write, sing, travel, love and be loved ... I want the world, and I want it now. No waiting, "You have to suffer and work to earn it," One thing at a time, "" Now it's silent and prepare for tomorrow, when you grow old and do what you want. " To me is that these phrases refanfinflan me. That and the solemnity of the biggest is that ...
They also make me angry.
I love you, but ... Phew, I mean ... well, if you know what I mean. Guess not. If I knew it would be easier to explain. I know what I feel, period.
And I feel lonely, angry, turned on.
What's going on, eh? WHAT'S HAPPENING?
teen fuck, you.