I can't listen to a music,
Cause my mind is too chaotic.
Too psychotic they say.
Too dramatic if I stray.
Too much for my darkest day,
Too little if I may say.
The music I once was known,
Was nothing but a past that shown,
Unrealistic imagery,
Of something that wouldn't be happening.
Music once used to make me smile,
By the beat of their style.
Too chaotic, too psychotic, too dramatic,
It's how toxic they've discribed me. toxic they've described me
