Days of the english. ( whilst Junira)

I would enter this church of celibacy of the truth.
I would gaze of the place and find it okay yet odd.
As if hiding a vulnerable danger to beset my ambition.
Often in check by how these people saw me.
I would not let them get the best of me.
I would not stop liking someone because people thought I was a fool.
Girl, I went to school just a coward and hater all along turns back on me
and knows I am not this fool guy at all.

Stop one time, look up a strange gaze from the girl not knowing and hoping
she just does not hate me. I just want to be free with the idea of a humanity of me
and a humanity for her but they never will respect that I have any ability for that at all.
Its all about sex. And all about fear. Tear, Jungle fever is not of me.
It is of social agony and I am not sleeping.
This whole place is a debacle, why am I here, when we only talk about nonsense.
I do not know what she thinks and I am not going to put much effort but listen as she
talks and she what she thinks. I am just going to listen to all of which can be said for me.
The humanity of them is highly ignoring of any respect for me. Just assume that people are
like you and that there is only one person just like you to fit in. With this shitty atmosphere
of crooked necks to a symphony of airs that are cheery when the world is poor and the school
is full of ravens.....
Yet I gaze at her.
Hoping to find her as she wishes to be known.
This in the days of the english....
The days of the english.