TY: I want to be someone else or I'll explode.
TRS: I want to explode or I'll explode.
TY: Floating upon this surface for the birds.
TRS: Foating, hanging, clinging, none that would make sense to me.
TY: I'll be waiting with a gun and a pack of sandwiches and nothing.
TRS: Today, I'll come for the gun.
TY: You want me? Well come on and break the door down.
TRS: Okay, but I'm locking myself inside mine, so maybe later.
TY: I'm ready. i'm ready. i'm ready.
TRS: I'm fucking scared. I'm fucking scared. I'm fucking scared.