I lay here, on this cold couch, In a room sadistically trying to be cozy, Staring blankly into a retrospective looking glass. I don't know why I am the way I am. I dose the meds and I listen to their textbook questions, I search introspectively for any clues. But, it seems the closer I get, The farther away I feel. So, how can I expect you to feel welcome In a heart that only knows,
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