thinking and writing
 writing and talking
 withoiut you

 situated in the corner of the corner
 so far from nothing
 suspecting not accepting
 that it's true

 it really hits me when
 i'm walking into the market
 i hear things i used 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
 not nothin'

 i'm on to something here
 it's all becoming clear
 clearly confusing
 less than amusing
 castrated like a corpse to a corner
 forgetful not regretful
 of what i am

 its really hits me when i'm
 hanging with other monkeys
 thinking of shit to say
 is it wrong to be here anyway

 i'm on to something here
 it's something i'm on to something
 but it's really nothing