I might. Empty my bank account. And buy that boy a wooden pipe. Buy that boy a wooden pipe. I might. I might. Empty my bank account.

Voices, a thousand, thousand voices. Whispering, the time has passed for choices. Golden days are passing over, yeah. I can't seem to see you baby.

Well you can go it alone, I'll keep it inbetween. The pages of the book she burns and no one gets to read. The fingers pull your stitches tight.

And if you wouldn't mind, I would like to blew. And if you wouldn't mind, I would like to lose. And if you wouldn't care, I would like to leave.

Did all the words I never said. Hurt as bad as those I did? You know I never even cared. Not before you. If I could go and turn back time.

Abro los ojos y mi voz. Se quiebra de la emoción. Luces, aplausos y el telón. Se abre en cada función. Siento la música vibrar.

Some people walk the straight and narrow - some walk the rocky road. Some get the silver spoon and some get the heavy load.

Shock horror I'm down. Lost, you're not around. There's a lump in my chest that. Sends cold through my head and. My mind shuts sound out. I'm an auto pilot.

Oh, God! Lookin' at your last text. Damn, did you even really mean it? Did you even look through it, did you even read it?

I feel the salty waves come in. I feel them crash against my skin. And I smile as I respire. Because I know they'll never win. There's a haze above my TV.

Sick of all these people talking, sick of all this noise. Tired of all these cameras flashing, sick of being poised.

[2Pac]. Big Syke, Newt, Hank. Beugard, Big Sur (yeah). Y'all know how this shit go (y'know). (All eyez on me). Motherfuckin O.G.

I'm sipping pink Lucozade. We're blazing on that new found haze. I'm seeing in the blacks and grays. I'm hoping that the basket sways.

I've got a soul that can not sleep. At night when something just ain't right. Blood red but without sight. Exploding egos in the night.

Yeah, man. So we back in the club. With our bodies rockin' from. Side to side, side-side to side. Thank God the week is done. I feel like a zombie.

[2Pac]. Uh, hit 'em with a little ghetto gospel. [Elton John]. Those who wish to follow me. (My ghetto gospel). I welcome with my hands.

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go. You're giving me a million reasons to quit the show. You're givin' me a million reasons.

Young and wired. Set to explode in the heat. You won't tire. Cause baby was born with the beat. Take you higher than you've ever known.

Your songs remind me of swimming. Which I forgot when I started to sink. Drank further away from the shore. And deeper into the drink.

Te vas, amor. Sí así lo quieres, qué le voy a hacer. Tu vanidad no te deja entender. Que en la pobreza se sabe querer. Quiero llorar.

Dear Santa, It's me, Ariana. I know it's been a while. But I really need your help this year. Let me make this clear. See, I really love him.