You wouldn't want this to implode and complicate the way 
things are. But I've been lately choosing sides, and if 
you'd like to know, I've chosen yours. I used to pray for 
some sort of car cash. I could be making millions off of 
you but I'd probably waste it on cocaine and love for 
cheap. Your place was the last to go, I wanted everything 
to fall apart; Yes, that, too. Now I commence with 
muddled thoughts in place of what was fuzzy feelings. And 
I'm just grasping at charm I once thought I had. I will 
remain this way, I see. This information is starting to 
become a kind of burden on myself and the people I love. 
That's why I always said never get yourself too attached 
to the world, it'll burn in the end. I could be making 
money off of you. But now, I'm just riding on residuals 
and hoping this will never end but I could never tear it 
apart. Your place was the first to go - I wanted 
everything to fall apart. I took some drugs in a shady 
place - I wanted everything to fall apart. And what's 
next? I drank myself into a stupor. Words slur and fail, 
you know. What have I got myself into? Let's begin. We'll 
take all the frame away and leave all the arbitrary on 
its back. We'll turn all the kids way, scavenging and 
looking for a piece of the structure falling off. We'll 
carve our names in bark; let's begin, begin the 
celebration of a home rebuilt. Oh my god, oh my god, oh 
my god, oh my god, oh my god - it's beautiful.