what does it mean when you can’t go on?
And what should you do about it?
I cannot do one more day of this
And yet I know two things:
No one cares
and I don’t even know what I’m talking about
Tomorrow will be another same old day
required to keep this apartment
where I shelter

So what is the point of saying
that I cannot do one more day of this

Anyway, what can that mean when I live without bombs crashing, guns blaring, prisons closing in?
How dare I complain?

And yet why lie?
I can’t stand this
Not one more day
I need to leave
but what does that mean?

I cannot do this anymore
Tomorrow I will not go to work
I will get in a plane and I will fly away
I have enough money to last a year or so
Maybe more with some luck
But I am afraid to leave my home
and everything I know
I am afraid to leave
so what should I do?

I can’t leave my home
I can’t leave all my junk
I can’t leave
But I also can’t stay
not like this
and I cannot live with this failure
to stop the evil
this failure
to get up off my ass
this failure
to live

I’m out of ideas
I’m open to suggestions

the wound that doesn’t heal
the loneliness that doesn’t let up
the failure that doesn’t turn around
the time that takes you down the drain
It needs to end
but what’s a good idea in this massacre?

here’s the plan:
Tomorrow I don’t go to work
I stay home and I buy a ticket to Madrid
I pluck a million dollars out of the air
And I hire a moving company and find a house
And I take this living room that I am so used to and these tall ceiling and this pull-up and dip bar
I take it all to Madrid
That way I’m still at 40 degrees North and I’m still in the west and I’m still in the Indo-European languages, but I’m out of the clanking noise and I’m out of the melting plastic smell and I’m out of the triumphant dishonesty, and I can breathe free again.
And then I can see what happens

Because here there’s no way
Here there’s no hope, no point, no way forward, here there’s a stench in the air and betrayal in the eyes

Here’s the plan:
Tomorrow I leave
I pluck a million dollars out of the air
And I go somewhere that doesn’t taste like evil to me
I’m not greedy, the money’s just so I can stop spinning my wheels while digging myself deeper and deeper into the dark

Here’s the plan:
Tomorrow I leave
I see a million dollars growing on trees and I pick the money like fruit and I get the hell out of here

Here’s the plan:
I need a plan