my teachers told me, "try and organize your thoughts.  the way
your mind wanders, girl, you're sure to get lost."  and the
doctors agreed and gave me pills that i could take until i'd be
old enough to self-medicate.  well fast-forward ten years and
now i'm drunk here, out on the fire escape, with the moon,
dear don't it look pretty great?  it always leaves, but comes back
to me.  and lately i've been counting things i can count on to
come back to me.  so i'm just hanging around, trying to pass
the time, cause i hear it heals all wounds and eventually decides
for me.  i'll just sit here and watch  my choices tick away, and
maybe find someone to distract me while i wait.  so i guess i'm
ok, but when i hear the sirens sing, i wish they were singing for
me.  i've made mistakes but help is coming, i called otu late and
someone was listening.  but with your hand on my pulse you
claim i'm ill-advised.  you say, "look at me now, don't shut those
dyslexic eyes, so your heart's a slow learner and those drugs
are its disguise?  well, it's a clear costume, you might as well not
try to hide.  at least our heart's trying.  and the strange thing
about this life is that no one fits in quite right.  does your heart
beat seem like a lie, the way it just don't feel right inside?  well,
so does mine, all right?  so does mine.  don't come back to me
like a memory.  stay here with me, like a family."