nickdrake:

Elliott Smith.

Now on the bus, nearly touching this dirty retreat. Falling out 6th and powell, a dead sweat in my teeth. Gonna walk, walk, walk. Four more blocks, plus the one in my brain. Down downstairs to the man, he’s gonna make it all okay. I can’t beat myself, I can’t beat myself, and I don’t want to talk. I’m taking the cure so I can be quiet wherever I want. So leave me alone. You ought to be proud that I’m getting good marks.