This is no song but a poem of fate
for in eleven days the fun shall end
no more fun no more games but torture and sadness
my time is limited even shorter then said
for work will come and take over my days
my rain in slacking is past and now just a fase
i wish it wasn't needed but what's done is done
i need to start early and that's not all
when i am there i wont know where to go
I can find my way out I can find my way in
but to find my way around the inside is imposible
i may be a Geniouse in stick rpg but those skills are useless here now in this scene
what am i?
... school
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