I smoked in my bed, I smoked by the window, I smoked in the kitchen floor. Then I got pregnant. The love child is due in December, if all goes according to planned. I made peace, I didn't forget but I put it behind. I'm glad I was expelled from your sick world of fake pleasures and fake images and fake people and fake goals. As the song goes by, I apologize, but I'm really sorry for you.
