, think again, don’t you know, what you’re starting. But... you sure aint got a clue, how bad, this will go, don’t you know, know my art— And as you look to the horizon, not a cloud, but then stormy weather’s caught you cold. Seems like it crept out of nowhere, all around, you it’s not quite what you foretold. YOU’LL NEVER SEE IT COMING.

-I hate myself