But when I do wake up and fuck yeah I do It every fucking day I leave them all behind, they're so much smaller then, I'm looking from above and keep on rising. Soon I'm not going to see them all at all. You can dance. You will dance If I fucking tell you so. Because you are bellow. A cockroach.

And then they try to talk, they share the words, bash you all the sudden. You do listen, no arguments, not worth it, not worth the time. A smile can blow half of it off. Then you keep the wait and seconds pass, them thousands fires burn and all is left is tiny cockroaches below, they forget the words, try to talk to you. But then you don't look back and leave. And that's fucking that.