IF YOU COME TO COLORADO

Folder: 
DEPRESSION



    I hope a red rock falls on your head.

    I hope it goes spinning, spinning, around.

    I hope you get lost and never found.



   As you lie in bed, I hope the baby will scream and cry,

   All the thoughts in your head.  

   You won't get any shuteye.

   You'll ask why.    

   You won't get any dreams.

      

   I hope she drives you insane.

   I hope she leaves you all alone.

   You can to hell, take a plane.


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