I'm living on a land-mine. my body's ticking away, my cartoon eyelids. and my skin, a sickly grey. and if I waited by the 'phone line. I'd wait a couple of days so I'm here lying.
she's always busy caring 'cos that's all she's ever done. she's a thousand Florence Nightingales all rolled up into one. and (well) people take advantage but she loves her fellow friend.