So he would sulk and drink and mope. . And cross his arms and hope to die.. . And then a fairy came one night. . To bring this sorry boy to life.. . She pulled some strings.
Hold your breath, dear. This ship is going down. We're all downhill. Running with our timebombs. These shins are cracked and splintered. These lips are crusted shut.
Sweating with confidence. They're soiling our egos. And we're locked at the hip. Don't cut the cord too short. . You've cut yourself off. I thought we agreed.