"A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal
You look so tired, unhappy
Bring down the government
They don't, they don't speak for us
I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide
And no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
Silent, silent."


Pueden tratarme con el pronombre   "el" 

Aca intentando sobrevivir poco a poco cjajs , escribo historias de cualquier wea y escribo una vez cada siglo