Texty: Digger. Monte Carlo. Alcohol, Women, And Misery.

Scared to death of the telephone. Cringe at the thought of ever being alone. I've got quite a lack of vertebrae to say the words I know I have to say. I'm burned out on your digital voice. I wish I didn't have to make this choice. Sometimes I wish I could fade away with you. Just me and you in a padded room. Were we doomed right from the hello? If it's all my fault I guess I'll never know. Where did all the good times go? If it's all your fault I guess we'll never know. I didn't want it this way. When will the timing be just right? I know I'm running away. I'm scared of being right. I hope you catch me soon..