you put on your raincoat cause it looks like it just might today and you grab your keys you're out the door before you know where you're going. if blame, as they say, is for god and little kids then you're deserving of praise or a slap on the wrist cause you can't help but blame yourself for your long face not a day pa**es that you don't fold your hands and ask St. Francis to find the lust for life that you lost when she left with your tounge and your last breath she's a thief with an eye for nice things not a day pa**es that you don't close your eyes and ask St. Francis to find the love of your life that you lost when she left you dumb f**, your life's a mess without her to tell you what to say or when to breathe or what you'll need or where you're going.