In the dark depths of your despair,
You shall meet an angry man, pulling his own hair.
He will scream, "It's not fair, it's not fair,"
And from his bitter anguish, your heart will tear.
But what on Earth can you do,
When all of your fears come true,
And the day it became so, you shall forever rue.
Is it fair? Is it fair?
Perhaps none even care?!
Are your demons really there?
Do they plot against you when you sleep,
Or do they laugh at you when you weep.
So I tell you now, it's never been fair,
And none will ever care,
Just as surely as you'll eventually run out of air.
