Why I need a blue haired cosplay suicide girl

The sun is shining in my eyes and I left my fucking sunglasses at home. You can feel the spring advancing, coiled venomous snake ready to strike. I use to reveal in how random life was, now an old grey and weathered fat drunk speaks to me at the bus stop like we were old friends.  Was that a drone, there by the corner of the building. I swear that was a drone. Why am I waiting on this bus? And why won’t this drunk leave me alone? Excuse me, WHAT IS IT? Do I have a “fucking care” look on my face? The construction continues across the street, loud and noisy like Godzilla belching out a fur ball. Still the suns burns thru my eyes as the breeze tattoos my face. “And the radio plays that forgotten song”.