looks like things are turned out. things arent turning out, they are already down the street and happy. you're already down the street and happy. im surprised that it took this long. leaving for somebody new. i let myself worry, let myself crazy, let myself think i was the last stop. and then some sort of perfection called and all was right. alright. we are all alright. no pieces are falling out of the sky, there is no blood on the bathroom floor, my car is still in the parking lot. i barely write anymore. i havent written a song in weeks. things are turned out. things are flat and plain and comfortable. life has dulled it's edge on me, and i have nothing left to bleed. i guess things are all turned out to greener pastures. sit back and rot with a smile.