We all live for that hand to holdDon't weSilly meI dream of you tonightSending me love lettersOffering advice on how I could be betterWhispering me in the ear I love youWritting me poetryYou write wellBut here you areColder than...

The ashtray yellsThere is an angry drunk man in front of meThat looks at meAnd I avoid himMy body throws acid chemicalsThat make my head acheIt is rainingAnd I am done.

In art I find shelterI go away from the stormI pour my teacupAnd burn, burn, burn.