lmao @ the title, none of you all will..well, maybe one or two that heard me ramble about it. But, lol...We'll call this call #1 to 1-800-cant write for shit... I think every kid has etched their name, on the sidewalk somewhere... and even though the entire city's been repaved I know the exact place, where my name's drowning in the rain. I'm not irish, but I hear the bagpipes you know, the ones they play when you die I'm screamin' that I'm alive Somebody, please... Find me. ..and I hear the violins, you know, the ones that end a sad story. And there's hope when I hear the DJ scratch but the cd's just skippin... I can hear the rain pounding as if I had a tin roof and it's only when.. the brown rain spot's show up on the cieling that I realize how dirty rain is... what holding in hidin pain does... but this noise vibrate's on the back of my throat pleading with me to say something.. so that my dirty soul's sin's can be washed away in this disgusting rain... I heard somebody refer to themselves as a cloud just waiting to cry... I wondered why they'd want to ruin everybody else's day... I guess that's selfish of me, but I hold everything in, and I guess that's selfish of me... She bend's but she will not break they say... I only bend until I break... but most of me is duct-taped so, I guess I'm survivin' I'm smilin' I'm still writin' but I'm so tired of fighting for it... And there's silence, the part where he ran out of breath the bow broke and the club closed... I've been having a hell of a time writing lately. This is just me rambling on I guess, Put the finger's to the keyboard and said got damn it just type. So...It is what it is.