Stop writing your own story,
She said to me in angers vent,
Hey no lorry lorry lorry
Show me where my fate went.
Hush wench, the one who feared then said,
You know your plans are what kill it,
Now you’ve talked your futures dead,
You will find nowhere you may sit.
Maybe He comes still if I’m looking,
He did tell all to seek and find,
Maybe in time my search in vain,
Will repay me in new surprise.
It’d be fun to see what’d come,
And be my own love Sherlock Holmes.