i've got drawers of photographs that died at birthnnand stacks of abandoned drawingsnnsolitaire across from unread booksnnthe piles grow but still i sleepnndream through the motionsnnthe samennwhy this house is never cleannnall things considered i'm the only one herenni can only do what i've always been toldnnall i need is some timennnow is the time to drive thhis last nail into the coffinnnbury this shit into the ground so i can fucking move on...nnthe end