A downtown working whore, or some cheap barroom score just leave me a little worse off than before, and all the scotch in the world won’t change a goddamned thing.
Maybe a fast new car, a new Z1-R, a brand new way to get high and all those things money can buy – will make me happy for just a while.
All those things don’t last very long, and I found out I was really wrong, hell it’s just that I don’t like who I am.
Baby it’s not that I didn’t love you, or want you around – I just didn’t love me and had no idea how. I didn’t think you possibly could either.
I bought in to others ideas of who I was, and their concepts of success and love – and hell, it’s a wonder I could even look at me in the mirror.
So I got myself a big magnifying glass, got up off my lazy ass and started looking to see just who I was.
Will I recognize me when I find me? Will I shake my own hand? Congratulate myself on becoming a better man?
Well, after all that I’m not such a bad guy, I learned to laugh and allowed myself to cry.
Damn, sometimes life just gets better and better.