Were you there, you know, when I was thinking about myself?
No, you weren’t, you were at work, and I took a day off because of
conjunctivitis, I said, but mostly anxiety.
If only we could make a living out of being there,
if only we could just pour the thoughts out in a paper cup.
My mind is well insulated, I tell you,
my thoughts'd make good hot coffee,
good enough for Starbucks at least. But, the question is,
would you buy it?
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