I'd lost count of the disappointments.
You use to drive me wild, but lately you get your kicks from just knocking me down, down, down.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl.
I feel helpless, hopeless, too low to call out, too weak to think. Impotent tears dribble down.
I'm interested in the feeling of getting to zero after a play, like you're never going to do it again. That's a really scary feeling.
All my life I've always been so blue, born to lose, and now I'm losing you.
I get what it feels like to watch some of your peers pass you in a field that you're in.
