Send us a blindfold, send us a blade Tell the survivors help is on the way I was a blind fool, never complained All the survivors singing in the rain I was the one with the world at my feet Got us a battle, leave it up to me.
“Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you’ll never meet them.” ― Charles Bukowski