In my red room, all alone
In the deadly dark.
In my red room, alone
in the deadly dark,
I like to think.
What did I do wrong that dreadful day ?
Why is my life so screwed up ?
What's my reason for living ?
Why won't people agree that I was pretty-ugly ?
When i don't want to think about that,
I read very touching, amazing, brilliant books.
Oooo-aahhhh !
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