You know, you tell me you want to die. I say to myself why should I weep for you? Why should I care? What did you do for me?
Nothing comes to mind, I feel no sorrow, fine you're done die I've decreed it. I've taken stock of you and alas you mean nothing to me so die you bastard. I feel no remorse, no regret I fear heaven nor hell.
I'am thinking in economic terms or TV exposure terms or newsprint terms and you register not a blip.
So I assume in the grand scheme of things you mean nothing. You're traveling light speed to another destination far, far away from me and I have no time to worry.
Cheers!
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