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-UE
Who are you?
Come on, tell me who, who, who, who?
Just please tell me who are you?
Who, who, who, WHO!?
Why won't you tell me who ARE you!?
Who, who, WHO, WHO!?
Why the HELL won't you say who are you?
COME ON! Who, who, WHO, WHO!?!?
Just please! I woke up in a Soho doorway (not sure how I got there), and a policeman knew my name somehow, but wouldn't tell me how he knew! He said "You can go sleep at home tonight if you can get up and walk away", which really, really fucking freaked me out
I staggered back to the underground (hey, some people call home their castle. I call it the underground), and the breeze blew back my hair. I remember throwin' punches around at those fucking assholes nearby, and I began preachin' from my chair about how they should all curl up and die. That... Did not make me very popular. Anyways, I KNOW you were there, so, well, who are you?
I really wanna know! So come the fuck on! Tell me, who are you? 'Cause I really wanna know!
I took the tube back out of town when I started running from those guys (I KNOW you were in the crowd, admit it!), and I rode it back to the Rollin' Pin. I felt a little like a dying clown with a streak of Rin Tin Tin when they caught up with me. After a few hours of beating, I stretched back and I hiccuped and looked back on my busy day. Busy as in bloody painful. Eleven hours in the Tin Pan (you know, from the frying pan and into the... ah fuck it). And... God, there's got to be another way to get you to tell me who are you!?
Just please, tell me who are you?
Who, who, who, fucking WHO!?
Who the fuck are you!?
Who, who, who, WHO!?
Tell me before I beat you who are you!?
Who, who, who, who!?
Why won't you tell me who are you!?!?
Who, who, who, motherfucking WHO!?
I know there's a place you walked (Like I said, I KNOW you were in that group, damnit!) where love falls from the trees. My heart is like a broken cup after I was beaten to a damn pulp, so I only feel right on my knees (which are also injured, but they have the lightest bruising)
I spit out like a sewer hole (GOD I shouldn't have drunk so much that night...) yet still recieve your kiss - really, you kissed me that night. I swear you must have been just as drunk as I was. How can I measure up to anyone now after such a "love" as this?
[Yes I randomly perverted the Who Are You song. No, I have no idea WHY I did it]
Just please tell me who are you?
Who, who, who, WHO!?
Why won't you tell me who ARE you!?
Who, who, WHO, WHO!?
Why the HELL won't you say who are you?
COME ON! Who, who, WHO, WHO!?!?
Just please! I woke up in a Soho doorway (not sure how I got there), and a policeman knew my name somehow, but wouldn't tell me how he knew! He said "You can go sleep at home tonight if you can get up and walk away", which really, really fucking freaked me out
I staggered back to the underground (hey, some people call home their castle. I call it the underground), and the breeze blew back my hair. I remember throwin' punches around at those fucking assholes nearby, and I began preachin' from my chair about how they should all curl up and die. That... Did not make me very popular. Anyways, I KNOW you were there, so, well, who are you?
I really wanna know! So come the fuck on! Tell me, who are you? 'Cause I really wanna know!
I took the tube back out of town when I started running from those guys (I KNOW you were in the crowd, admit it!), and I rode it back to the Rollin' Pin. I felt a little like a dying clown with a streak of Rin Tin Tin when they caught up with me. After a few hours of beating, I stretched back and I hiccuped and looked back on my busy day. Busy as in bloody painful. Eleven hours in the Tin Pan (you know, from the frying pan and into the... ah fuck it). And... God, there's got to be another way to get you to tell me who are you!?
Just please, tell me who are you?
Who, who, who, fucking WHO!?
Who the fuck are you!?
Who, who, who, WHO!?
Tell me before I beat you who are you!?
Who, who, who, who!?
Why won't you tell me who are you!?!?
Who, who, who, motherfucking WHO!?
I know there's a place you walked (Like I said, I KNOW you were in that group, damnit!) where love falls from the trees. My heart is like a broken cup after I was beaten to a damn pulp, so I only feel right on my knees (which are also injured, but they have the lightest bruising)
I spit out like a sewer hole (GOD I shouldn't have drunk so much that night...) yet still recieve your kiss - really, you kissed me that night. I swear you must have been just as drunk as I was. How can I measure up to anyone now after such a "love" as this?
[Yes I randomly perverted the Who Are You song. No, I have no idea WHY I did it]
Comments
It's only NSFW if you THINK it's NSFW.
…
I was talking to THAT guy!
Katsuragi Keima is, without a doubt, the most disgusting guy alive. Cool, but disgusting.