Lavaswim Marathon E

I, I admit that I was wrong. I was the gift-horse around, ground your teeth and Ripped him. Now you Always rationalize. Took the gift that you were given, Thrown about, reduced to spite. And you'll never own. You'll never claim ownership, not of this poor, Wretched thing. There's always an excuse. You fucking loser. You fucking lose. And I hope you hate yourself As much as I fucking do. And I know you do. I know you do. You Always cast the blame. It's all good, man. It's all right. There's always someone to blame.