thinking and writing writing and
 talking  without you situated in the
 corner of the corner  so close to
 nothin' suspecting  not accepting that
 it's true it really hits me when i'm
 walking into the market hearthings i
 used to say is it wrong to be here
 anyway

 i'm on to something here it's all
 becoming clear clearly confusing less
 than amusing castrated like a corpse
 to a coroner so close to nothing
 forgetful not regretful of what i am it
 really hits me when i'm hanging with
 other monkeys thinking of shit to say
 is it wrong to be here anyway

 fade away what was i thinking when i
 thought i could make you stay what
 was i thinking when i thought i was
 right