Hur tärd man blir när man inser vidden av sin egen otillräcklighet.
Att något viktigt fattas i mig, så att något viktigt obönhörligen måste komma att fattas mig? All tid är lånad, eller stulen.
Den tillkommer icke dig att klänga sig fast vid, eller gråta över. Var god och betala tillbaka, kontant.
December was just too sad,
For her to call a home.
Even with starry nights
And painted country roads.
There was nothing I could do for her
That I hadn't done,
And my desperation eyes showed
More than I think they should
Have shown.
She's just a whisper,
Paranoid of perfect people bound to disappoint
Her apartment life is easier
Than the one outside.
She can't get by on promises
That I always deny.
And my desperation eyes showed
More than I think they should
Have shown.
[Patrick Park - Desperation Eyes]
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