Tragedy bound, looking for clues. I'm starting to suspect she likes abuse. I'm starting to feel like she doesn't feel. Is there anybody in there?. . Tragedy bound, she is a mess.
Tell me, come on, tell me what you can. Even as you wait for death, you're wiser than I am. Tell me what does it mean to exist. I am not a scientist, I must believe in more than this.
The birds are up when he collapses through her door. Spilling out in constellations on her floor. Soaked in liquor he is soft as bread. And everything that's left in him to beg her to his bed.