I do not think when I enter the door of my apartment but instead I move to the kitchen determined to prevent myself from causing more tragedies and so
and so the bottle of aspirin goes down easy like a lean cuisine meal and the fifth of vodka goes down easier and I sit on my bed next to a copy of This Side of Paradise and I put my own head in my hands and for the first time in my life my hands feel like my brother’s and I neither cry nor smile but instead I think about what’s on the other side of paradise and I wonder what would have happened if I had been there all along and what would have transpired if
And every time you dream of better
All you end up getting is worse
And the ability to truly see the changes in your life
Could be the ultimate encompassing curse
But intrinsically humanity cannot end on such tragedy
So here it is the silvery verse, oh I must sing
