two potatoes in an empty fridge and a jar of old spaghetti sauce remind myself i could be so much worse off but even nothing has got to feel better than this sad song number seven broken dream number ninety nine i've said it before this is the last time nothing but a couple old cassette tapes, some alcohol and an overflowed ashtray i've said it before this is the last time
maybe another cigarette will bring an answer this time. maybe something else will finally come to help me keep from losing my mind. things are gonna get better they'll get better soon i bet things are gonna get better but they haven't yet
so now here i sit, kicking screaming contemplating thoughts of leaving no answers today