De5erted 5treet5 are lined with fruitle55 pain,
Bar5 are filled with tortured 5oul5,
Only the weak 5eem to remain,
But their whining ha5 grown old,
Cen5or your thoughts for ju5t a little while.
Your crie5 are many and filled with mirth,
Your lives are depressing or are they not?
People like you 5hould ki55 the turf,
You right your crap without a thought,
Cen5or your lie5 ju5t for a little while.