Every tounge bit had another word to say.
I had fooled myself into thinking that I was something important to the rest of the world.
Sometimes I wish I had an easy answer for why I'm depressed.
So why am I depressed? That's the million-dollar question, baby, the Tootsie Roll question; not even the owl knows the answer to that one. I don't know either. All I know is the chronology.
its hard to talk when you want to kill yourself
We look into each other's eyes as we shake. His are still full of death and horror, but in them I see my face reflected, and inside my tiny eyes inside his, I think I see some hope.