^CNow that the ^Dday has ^Ccome I ^Amsee myself ^Das every^Cone ^CI am what’^Ds all aroun^Cd me No, ^Amnothing it ^Djust cannot ^Cbe ^AmFeeling has ^Dcome from the ^Csun Like ^Cmost every^Dthing and every^Cone What seems ^Clost is free ^Dfrom the ^Cforce that slowly ^Cdestroys us And kills ^Amall matter ^Amoff ^{D Am Am}Well, we don’^Amt control th^Ame chance tha^Dt play^Ams with u^Ams And we ^Amget existence ^Amback to ^Dhurting ^Amothers ^Am And when we ^Amgo the other ^Amway it’s o^Durselve^Ams we hur^Amt But who ^Ampushes on ^Amthough eventu^Dally will ^Amsee Every ^Dmoment’^Ams first Every ^Ammoment is first ^CWhat’s gone wil^Cl never com^De b^Amack But it ^Cexists when ^Cyou think of ^Dit^Am And ^Cwhat is anyt^Ching, any^Dwa^Amy But a ^Cseries of ^Cthings running ^Amthrough your ^Ambrain ^CAll of the ^Cfucked things you ^Ddo^Am Are the ^Cproduct of whats ^Chappened to ^Dyo^Amu ^CWhatever you ^Ccreate from ^Dlov^Ame Is a ^Cgift from the ^Cplace which some ^Amcall a^Ambove There’^Cs only th^Ce forces o^Amf hate an^Amd love ^COne breaks things ^Cdown and one ^Ambuilds them ^Amup.