Look left, brake right. It's nothing but coasted stop signs and run red lights. Head on collisions. No casualties. No worries, nothing open heart surgery can't fix. Casual strolls have become grounds for catastrophic collapses. Holey teeshirts. Newspaper clippings. The old business building. Top 40 radio.
Seriously, you even make ******* i n g pop songs depressing.
I string together old pieces of poetry to create the illusion that I still remember how to write.
The worst part is you didn't rob me of this... Didn't take my heart and run... I gave it to you.