I don’t want to ever wake up.
I never, ever want to wake up.
Want to close my eyes and hide from my life.
You said that it wasn’t that sharp.
And your accidental remarks cut ribbons of me to fly on parade.
I want you to know that it’s not your fault.

You said that it didn't look rough.
Man thrown over. Bored by bad luck.
And it’s sleep or swim. Chance is slim, Julia.
You said that the rope wouldn’t break.
Now it looks like a pretty mistake; crumpled on the floor.
You said you were sure. I want you to know it’s not your fault.

Dear whoever finds this note first,
It’s not like it’s a blessing or curse.
It’s just life and it’s spinning round.
It’s just life and it spins you round.
But it’s not your fault