I'm standing in Brooklyn just waiting for something to happen. I can't help but love thinking that everyone doesn't get it. To my left is a window, where did I go? My reflection just blends into rows of clothes, and bad ideas, but ideas nonetheless, so...
I put one foot in front of the other. I don't need a new love or a new life, just a better place to die.
I happened to stumble upon a chapel last night, and I couldn't help but back up when I thought about what happens inside, considering I turned him down.
Maybe I should learn to shut my mouth.
