I've spent sixty six days lying on my back
and choking on the gunk inside my raw and infected lungs
There's no point in trying to cough it up, it's always been there
Every time I try, I end up popping out an eye
from all the pressure

I'm afraid to talk to my liver
I'm sure he'd have a lot of valid complaints to make, but I'm not ready to help him, yet
I try to avoid direct contact with all of my organs
I'm sure they're all quite upset with me, I've been treating them terribly


My heart is the most abused of all
I keep teasing it with lies of affection, but no one loves me for more than a few days
I am not love
I'm not romance
I'm a rush
A feeling
An explosion of emotion and spontaneity
And love just isn't in my cards, right now
The heart cards are all missing from my deck,
and I'm running out of one-player games I can play this way