There's No Good Sharks? (living room sweatpants version)
When you caught me crying in the living room, you asked me "is everything okay?" I told you I didn't know. I couldn't afford to eat, my body wouldn't let me in the first place. I broke down. Tried to comprehend all the shit that I've done, all the people I ever knew. I'll probably never get this right, begging for something to say. But these people keep me from holding up in a bed, with sheets like armor. I hope you don't quit some pathetic fuck like I've become