one straight month of only sundaysnthe doldrums couldn't be this stillnwe're so dependent on the weathernand february feels like junenit always rains herenni'm content to sit here all nightnand no, the world's not passing bynthere's too much emphasis on actingnwhen reflection works just finenyou're proof conviction keeps some groundednbut i know betternthere's no bright shadesnin a dark room without a viewnor so we're finding outnnit's all pointlessnwhen you're bent on disappointmentnthe last year's been a real messnhalf circumstance, half laziness