Poor day Can you maybe stay? For just a bit longer Make tomorrow morning come late Cause I'm not ready for this headache I will feel right when I will wake up Up... One day I'll be number one Or someone to anyone No one could ignore my halo Even blind man Will feel it There's a black hole between my purpose and soul A liqueur of self destruction and care Toxicated and brought back to the point from which I woke up hungover So I became number one But no one to anyone And my inside's still hollow Self hating Gold plated Ohhh