People will beg to see me fall,
as boys trip over one another.
But I wonder if they'd catch me at all
or bet who first would call me their 'lover'.

And no one seems necessarily excited
about my own life of existence.
Oh, but darling what do I care
about their own stupid presence?

So I try not to think about you at all,
but it seems like my heart won't listen.
So I'll lose my own breath and maybe
I'd escape all this bullshit I've lived through in.