Standing, on the edge, of the bird nest.
Like creative once said
and the chainbans are all cold now
No more bird food, and the embers are dead
Whispers, in the air, tell the tales
Of the flamers gone
Desolation, devastation
What a OC we made, when it all went wrong
Watching, from the edge, of the flamewar
For the games to begin
Crossdressers, draw their swords,
form their ranks for armageddon
I'm a fake bird,
I'm wild
I'm breaking up inside
A heart of broken accounts,
Deoxxed
Deep inside
The abandoning child.
