Don't worry: it's tiny.
I am about as beaten as Freudian thespian's copy of "Oedipus," my eyes covered in brilliant red veins from too many espresso shots.
She walked right through that door, without looking back; she just four cold words, "It had to end." That's all she told me.
Yeah, all she told me, Hmmbadoombadaa
I am lost in a dark place, looking around for a light, checking my web-connected palm pilot for directions out, but the batteries died.
Hey, the batteries died. Hoooohooooooooo
I'm sitting in coffeshop, with a suitcase full of change. I'll keep buying cappucino, until I lose my brains and liver. Until I lose my eyes. But it doesn't stop me from thinking of her.
From thinking of her, Yehaaaaggh.
Yesterday, I brought a rocking horse made of wood, an old-fashioned kind of rocking horse. I lit it on fire, just to watch it burn.
Just to watch it burn, Laaalalaaaaa...