Can I act normal?
Can I act sane?
Can I fall back out of love again?
Will I detach?
Will I be smooth?
Will I lose what’s left of my attitude?
Did the psychiatrist come?
Did he hear me out?
Did he find the reason why I have such a potty mouth?
What’s wrong with my brain?
What’s the need for pure truth?
What’s the reason for existing in this lonely neighborhood?
Why is this happening?
Why this — Now?
Why ask questions? Happy Endings–Might as well be shit from cows!