There's a guy at the top of a parking structure, drinking beer with his friends, sitting through a sex ed lecture, being taught by the "fucking" best. And he's looking over the edge again. He really likes drop offs, and that's what he tells his friends. Maybe he sees some kind of portal at the bottom where the curb is. I think he feels strangely mortal on the top floor where the hurt is always there. I want to love you, but it's always there. I want you to love me too, but it's always there. I want to want to fuck you too, but it's always there. I wonder what I did to piss God off like that, so I could say sorry or something. I wonder what I did. I feel the hurt too much to make the scene it takes to get people to look out for me. I'm not a stable man. I can't play your stable games. I'm a dysfunctional man with a forgettable name.