Enough White Lies Can Scorch The Earth

Of Course, If I Eat All Of Him, If I Spare His Brain, He'll Rise Up And Follow Me Back To The Airport, And That Might Make Feel Better. I'll Introduce Him To Everyone, And Maybe We'll Stand Around And Groan For A While. It's Hard To Say What 'friends' Are Any More, But That Might Be Close.

You Can Order Yourself To Treasure A Moment, To Cling Tight To A Feeling And Never Let It Fade, But It's Your Brain, That Three-pound Lump Of Hamburger, That Makes The Final Call.

We Eat And Sleep And Shuffle Through The Fog, Walking A Marathon With No Finish Line, No Medals, No Cheering.

I Adapt To Things Quickly, Including Good Things, Which I Wish I Could Shut Off Sometimes.

Breathing Is Optional, But I Need Some Air.