I’ve got that lefty curse, where everything I do is flipped and awkwardly reversed.
You’re seldom known and barely missed; I always put myself in destructive situations.
I need oxygen to be exposed where no one goes, where no one’s been when it all comes crashing down.
We always have to wait by the choice we had to make.
You sold yourself so short, is this the way to carry on?
In the most unexpected places.