Everyone seems to think of themselves as better than everyone else.
‘course I seem to think they’re all better than me.
don’t think I’m wrong,
mind.
don’t mind me.
Twin Peaks is runnin’ in the background.
she’s got tears in her eyes,
they’re pretty obvious,
but this guy,
head waiter of the joint,
is sittin’ impatiently while she pays her tab,
mutterin’
“I had an accident, I need to leave”
he stands there,
holding a wad of money,
and she asks
“Do I owe you anymore”
he sighs, exasperated,
“No, you don’t”
and runs off in a huff.
She didn’t tip.
girlfriend just wants to make it better,
when I can’t…
when I can’t…
she holds me until I stop cryin’.
she tells me it was good.
that she’s satisfied,
that she ain’t frustrated with it,
‘cept that she can’t…
that I can’t…
feels like I’m datin’ some saint
can’t help but think they’re all better than me.
can’t even…
can’t.
ain’t supposed to be this broken this soon.
