All the cinnamon buns
They are gone
The one thing that I was looking forward to this day
The tin pan is out in the rubbish
I feel empty
All I wanted
Was ONE cinamon bun
It's gone
I just wanted it so bad and I don't have it
I cry the tears of a man who has lost his promised food at the end of the day when he gets home
How dare that margret took the last slice, how dare she steal his relief from him!
The world pities his loss, and he pities himself.
The man will never taste the holy pizza til he goes miles away for another pie
I must go miles and miles for a new box, and I would not survive the journey in this winter
I am void of hope, full of despair.
There is nothing left for me in this world.
Thus, I have settled on tortilla chips.
