I hate people who think they "knew me when" As if I was once true and now am false A personality is a progression Some wild twisting beast that never stops escaping from itself
In the ghetto of winter I traced my hand on a placemat Drew your face with my eyes closed Pretended I was eating with my favorite author Pretending I was making him laugh
I just don't know how to feel I just don't feel But I wouldn't even notice No, I wouldn't have any reason to care If not for your complaint I know that I make you unhappy But what can I do? I wasn't created just for you Not just for you