Question One
You know what..
I might just never "get over it".
There's always more questions. I'm always full of questions. Are you ready to answer? Or will you just sit there pretending to listen.
I'm sure.
Aren't you sick of asking questions and not answering them? Aren't you sick of not having other people answer them?
I know I am. Tired of sitting here pretending that I actually have the answers. Tired of contemplating things I never will know the answers to.
And I'm sick of you making me feel like a failure. I'm metaphorically vomiting.
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Lot of knots, lot of snags,
Lot of holes, lot of cracks, lot of crags
Lot of nagging old hags
Lot of fools, lot of fool scum bags
Oh it's such a drag, what a chore
All your wounds are full of salt
Everything's a stress and what's more,
Well it's all somebody's fault