Concerning you I am broken. I try not to be seen. Sometimes I wish I could open your head in bed when you dream. And even if it's all my love it could never be enough. Of that I'm very well aware. I hate the monster who maimed you. I hate his ugly guts. I built an army to kill him but they don't have enough strut. And even if it were true love it could never be enough. And I know what you're thinking honey. I've red books about the devil too. And I know that it's tempting honey to think it's he who directs our shoes. For some things there's no comfort honey. A these days I've had a lot to lose.