Hello, my friend
Thank you for holding my hand
When I was just about to peel my skin
Which this itch resides within
Misery loves company
And right now, I feel like the cynic's cynic
It feels like there is no altar in this city
But the closest I can come to the sky is to
Find a hole and find solace in the "om"
Until the sun begins to set
And the people make their way home