The London edge.

What am I supposed to feel?

How am I supposed to deal?

I can't even feel.

How am I supposed to kneel?

I can't think.

I can't sink.

I can't do anything.

The promises we've made....

All of them fade....

None of them remain....

Only the Pain.

Don't say it.

Don't feel it.

Don't want it.

Don't see it.

All that remains is all I restrain.

Too much competition.

Too much complication.

Too much Damnation....When it comes to the London edge.

All out for War....

All out the door.....

Nothing but a bore....

I can't feel anymore.

Stolen from the Heart.

Given to the Art.

Only on the London edge....

Can you feel the damn Dart.

It hurts....

It lurkes....

It stabs....

It Jabs.

I wouldn't wish it on you.

I wouldn't shift it on you.

So why in the hell would I want to keep it on you?

I didn't do it to you.

I didn't fool of you.

You fooled yourself....

Now you want me to take it from you.

It's too much to go through.

It's too much to talk through.

It's too much to lie through.

But It's not too much to see through.

I'll see you later....(It's too much competition.)

I'll see you later....(It's too much complication.)

I'll see you later....(It's too much to deal.)

I'll see you later....(It's too much to steal.)

It's really not my problem....

Since you can feel.

It's really your problem....

Since I can't reveal.

Wait! Maybe it is my problem....

Since, I was stupid enough to take your place on the London edge!