Little Man. Atmosphere.
How’s the love? How’s the music? How’s the self-abusiveness?
Got a lot to lose, it’s breakin’ your shoulders
So you let your paranoia place your bets for you
Too many cigarettes, messin’ up your voice
Too many arguments, tryin’ to test your poise
All these women wanna hurt me and I just don’t have the patience
I can’t trust ‘em
And they’re not much help
When they start to push and pull the buttons I don’t trust myself
What pride, fists, and words just might do?
I’m afraid of my fate, don’t wanna turn out like you
(via mariafknlee)

