and I'm minutes too late for everything. lets face it, could I really say anything worthwhile anyhow? I'd give some of this to you if I could but for now I'll just hope for the best and know its going to get worse than it already is. Damage, damage, damage: we're a rare breed.
picking up your trash, I feel like a winner. Clenching my fists full of fear, precautionary measures as not to break down. I've walked the whole dark world alone but I shy from the genuine touch of shade. Clenching these fists of fear, hey,at least it's better than fury.