I do not know several things in life. I do not have an eye that measures strife. I do not know a lot of things that which you speak. But in my mind I nod, you don't seam meak. For your mind is expanded like so. Maybe in the future you won't act like a ho. I see you. Everyday. All your pain. Drugs and guys, they look the same, like the needle in your arm. We onced promised each other we would raise a farm. But look at you now. I do not know. How has it, you've grown so old. Your knowledge is of the street life. Your words of pain hit me like a knife. When will you come back to me? Hoes no little of being free. You don't have to answer to a man dressed in fur. A purple hat, and maybe a cane. These aren't you for sure. Leave that filthy world behind. For you do not know, what I know is kind.