The spiral staircase
The wrought iron fence...

James' hair is greasy as hell and he
smells like rotten bologna...

A boy today, I met him so.
Making babies out of snow...

Waltzing in the moonlight
Aware of the slight grip or his old fingers...

If I were [is], I'd be smiling. But I am [was...
If [is] is content and easy-feeling...well, that...

Words.
In the form of insults...

Imprison me.
Watch me...

Why don't you ask your big ego to leave?
This part-It wasn't written for three...

Build up the bridges,
Burn down the walls...

You've got me on my knees;
The blade is to my wrist...

I heard about your news, today.
I thought it was a lie...

Here I am.
A narrator in your story...