Оригинален текст
He had a stack of dimes for a di*nk that he kept hidden from his young tormentors. She cr*pped her pants and when it started to stink they laughed her up a railing high above the river. A godd*mn beige curse. She couldnt imagine worse. She once was known for her art. Not anymore. His mom caught him jerking when she got home from work and it drove him to stick needles in his arm. She gave one bj in the back of a van and the clap quickly spread across her lips. Oh fk! Theres a fking curse! She couldnt imagine worse. They thought she was such a nice kid. Not anymore. A bumpy road for thimbled*cks and p*be-less dweebs. You with the natural perm! The brown-toothed the bald-spotted bottle-glassed puds (fking Halfhead). acked spazzes with limp handshakes, zit cream ordered by mail. No-boobed girls, man-boobed boys. His mom picks his clothes and SHE smells like pee. These are the mean streets. Dont kill yourself yet. Adulthoods worse. Dont kill yourself at all. Yet.