Did you really think I'd give you the satisfaction at this point?
As if I could honestly let it kill me anymore than it already has?
Hours of sleep that I will never get back,
stuck in between days of what are now wasted laments.
No, I won't give you the satisfaction.
The record has been turned over,
and the books have been shelved.
My terms, your terms.
Pay them no mind.
Terms are relative at this point.
You got what you wanted,
after months of deliberation.
Personal debate.
Internal "conflict".
No, I won't give you the satisfaction.
Just this...
The record has been turned over,
and books have been shelved.
Pay me no mind.
I am vapor.
I am yesterday.
I am nothing.
For nobody.
Forever.
I'm finishing what you couldn't.
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