I feel the falling stars encircle me.

I hate my house I hate my house I hate my house I hate my house I hate my house.  Oh, yeah.  I hate my house.

I wish I never had to be here.  In the cold.  My parents try, they really do, but I don’t want to be cold any more.  I selfishly want to just leave them and I can’t.  I wish I could just go live with my sister in her nice, warm apartment.  But my parents might miss me.  I wish they could forget about me.  Forget I ever existed.  Then we would all be happier.