All of your fears are well founded and true
All my hands are callous and cruel
All of my arrows that riddle you through
Are bullets that fire me back into you
All of the rivers are boiling with thirst
All my hands are covered with earth
All of my children that gnash with their teeth
Are paperback novels and dogs scratching fleas
Aš tai dabar jaučiuosi, lyg man būtų uždėtas limitas, kiek galiu naudotis music'u. Nes atrodo, prisiliesiu prie kažko ne to ir išmes mane kokiai savaitei, kaip jau yra padarę. Bet iš dalies gerai tokia pertrauka - daugiau laiko kitiems dalykams