it cannot be that i orbit around stylised melancholic tragedy. certainly i have more than all those poetic rock wails my brain entertains me with. all the frivolity and fluffiness must account for something right? and yet theres a certain compelling sense of responsibility towards all the gravitous matters that nag and gnaw at me to devote more of my attention to them. what if i left them alone, and they go to find new friends? i'd be responsible for the misery of others and we dont want that do we? so now i grind my knife on the sharpening stone. one day i'll find time to ambush them, stab them, bury them and everyone would be none the wiser. the easier way out would be to spit at them, so they go harass others, and i might want that. Mr Shrink, is it safe to assume i now know more than you?

And I know I'm just here to amuse you
And I don't mean to confuse you
But if I could just use you one more time

Tell me what it's like to be the house on the hill
The number one diet pill
And tell me what it's like to be the one and only
All American Girl

Now I bet you won't say you get crazy
Or that you don't shave your legs
When you're lazy
Or that you're just like everybody else in the world
You just got lucky, that's all
music in my head :: all american girl :: train