You’re Welcome, Okay?
“Oh Oh that feels good, scratch that, there, now now now. I want to paint your face, oh my, let’s put some BLACK AROUND YOUR EYES, this is fun, this is FUN, THIS IS FUN!”
“Oh tell me again, I’m crying, so tell me again, tell me again that’s it’s all okay, this isn’t my fault, this is just what my life has done to me!” [You’re okay, this isn’t your fault, this is just what your life has done to you].
Yeah yeah yeah, but that aside, your progress can’t be mine, your diamonds barely shine, I’m shaving GLASS to make this fine. I actually do think that this is your fault sometimes.
Don’t worry about it, it’s not like you’re all I’ve got in my head when I’m trying so hard just to go the fuck to bed.
There are only two things that work, the sound of someone else going through the same thing (a good man with a good heart) and this thing my soul does sometimes. I can’t remember what it’s called… I think it begins with an H?