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Woke in a ditch where the bitches grin to the sound of the present tenseHow many sound checks can a man ignore before he turns into a shadow of himself?I've got nothing left but an autograph and the strangest sense of doubtI think the name belongs to meBut someone else is living with itI am the least of your problemsBut I don't mindFell on myself with the tender touch and the shame of the indiscreetHow many hand jobs can a man enjoy till he forms into a puddle at his feet?I got things to say in a plastic voice that I learned on the way to hellAgain the point of missing youNo one else will do it for meI am the least of your problemsBut i don't mindDraw it out as long as you can bear itFight it outFight it outFight it out the misery is glorious From Letras Mania