nIt's been a hell of a year, but I'm mentally preparednTo do a dance around the next couple medical scaresnI'm Fred Astaire with the metal wearing quickly off my tap shoesnSo I step quietly, the way that cat's movenBut I'm bear-like. My head trapped in dear lightsnYou can call me John, I'm writing letters to the dark side of the moon tonightnMy lovely Jane, you went away but the pain stayednSo I'm sending you a package to the address where you traded namesnI made no claims on the identity theftnI'm more concerned about the home with no amenities leftnAnd it's already a mess. The dust piles like your junk mailnSo I eat away depression and crush the scalenYou find yourself on the opposite side of the spectrumnEmaciated on a strict diet of bed crumbsnMe? I choose to wallow and I'll just swim in my fatnYou...refuse to swallow so I see ribs from the backnThis isn't an attack, it's an admission of guiltnI'm living in the past, kissing your ass, sipping your milknBut it's all bone and curdle. I saw stones in a circlenStood in the middle. Told myself riddles in a robe that's purplenThe murder weapon was an iciclenIs that the reason why I'm standing in this puddle with my eyes so full?nI fight feelings like a war on drugsnI'm a chemist with a test tube addiction born through coffee mugsnOur baby now is all growed upnYour car is still dead in my driveway while I wait for the tow trucknAnd you know what? I know I drove you awaynI still don't think it was wrong so I don't know what to saynIt's been a tough year. You say that life ain't fairnWell, guess what, baby...life ain't. Thems the breaksnYou say that life ain't worth it. But it is. You gotta work itnNobody's life is perfectnnYeah, you've been dealt a bad hand. Placed against a stacked decknBeen through all the cat scans and bad checksnBut I slashed your debt. Not your wristsnAnd I couldn't help with anything else that became cancerousnHalfway people with a full baby to burynTook a flame to the papier-mache sanctuarynWhen the smoke clears...try not to stare into the lightnBut, also, don't stay in the dark as if that's what life is likenIt's just a series of unfortunate eventsnBut the messages we get are more important than deathnWhat's the rush?nI've got a shortness of breathnWhat's the rush?nRunning from you...running from menIt's the rush. The crush. The lust. The love-trustnSo what's the trouble? The busted bubble? The unjust?nThat's just the way the cookie crumbles. It does sucknBut suck it up. We're all looking, but nothing's enoughnWe used each other as a crutch. The clutch. The shift switchesnYou couldn't just adjust. You combusted and ripped picturesnThis is why I'm not considered a saint?nWell, guess what?......I ain'tnnIt's been a hell of a yearnYou said that I ain't there, I ain't care, and life ain't fairnIt's been a hell of a tripnYou say my mind's unfit, I've been flip, and I ain't shitnIt's been a hell of a lifenYou say that I ain't like the way I write and that ain't rightnIt's been a hell of an attemptnYou say that I ain't meant for promises unkeptnWell, guess what, darlin..nI'm a keep keep callinnGuess what, darlin..nI'm a keep keep callinn