The Universe is making music all the time.
I may be drunk but at least I'm not insane.
I'll take a rusty nail and scratch your initials on my arm.
It's a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace, and a wound that will never heal. No prima donna, the perfume is on an old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey. Goodnight to the street sweepers, the night watchmen flame keepers and goodnight, Matilda, too.
It's hard to win when you always lose.
The world is a hellish place, and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering.