Halfway to hopeless I was picking up short breaths in between cigarettes.
I don't know if I told you this, but the doubt I have, it knows no limits.
It's a solipsistic soliloquy and I guess that means nothing to me.
Halfway to hopeless. Remind me. Take notice. I'm lost or I'm nothing at all.
How did I get so far from water?
Blaring car horns and crowded bus stops don't quite do marvels for seeing straight.
I keep my hands down.
All the way down in my pockets.
My worst quality is my skill at hiding the rest.
I think you expect too much out of me.
You're probably right.
I know I'm not.
I'm not here to help out.
I've got no promises to keep.