I woke up with the morning dew.

Cold and frozen pipes couldn't have been more of a blessing.

Today it rains and I am a failure once again.

Money is water, Happiness is wind, they both slip through my fingers.

It's morning again, Sleep hasn't been home for days.

Vacationing with Peace. Out of business. Done for good.

I've got my smile that's made out of wood. It's morning. It's morning.

And the hills are thirsty and alive with sorrow. I am never happy.

I hear the pipes. I hear my moans. It's raining, there must be a crick in my heart.

Oh, I hear the voices whisper sweet songs like tribal lullabies.

These are hard times.

Should I dance for water?

Should I strip for love?

Must one fuck for hunger because a cry or two isn't enough?

How pathetic is it to drown in a half empty cup?

I am not happy.

I am not happy.

I try to be content.