Don’t you know that I’m young and I can’t feel a thing at all and it’s all smiles and business until I’m indifferent to the loss. They’re not the exact words but they’re the ones that came to mind and as I run the chords again and again they’re the ones that feel just right. Like something profound and sorry, it struck meĀ in the throat and as soon as I began to hum-a-long I remembered trying to summon that soul and ask her what I was doing wrong? Today it doesn’t seem important, as I’d miss her signals through the noise, and I’m far less worried about myself then every mess in the headlines. Greeted by a bad joke each day, until someone loses their life, not an ear to argue, or a thing to do to teeter the ship back to upright. A million correct and useless thoughts, screaming between my eyes, I must admit to closing them hours before I try to sleep through the night.

Anyway…

Here I stand, sad and free, and I can’t cry, and I can’t see what I’ve done. Oh God what have I done?