Every night is wet and cold, I’ve got something else brooding under my skin. I’m in trouble again with myself. I couldn’t breathe through my guilt. There’s a lot of resentment here and there. To make it through without a scratch would be just a mere wishful thinking. The only way out is to keep breathing. Be me, smile, a lot of smiles and bit of tears at night.
Love, maybe but that one is a bit tricky. I couldn’t look beyond it far enough to feel tranquil about it. Things change, the facade might be the same but you can never ponder over the memories with the same feelings, with the same attitude.