He said to me the other day, "We're gold-diggers, you know?" I don't know why he says these things. "Really *insert name*? I thought we were just doing a service. Happiness does come at a price." His laughter always makes me cringe. It really reminds me of when I'd go watch my friends practice in their terrible band when I was younger. The drums always made me wince, always.

I want to see you looking right at me.

One day, you'll see, things were a lot better on this side of the sea.

Knocking down his door, you're such a big bad wolf. Huffing down on his straw, you're such a big bad wolf. Don't you pick on his stick, you big bad wolf, the food chain has no need for you. So go on with yourself. Pick up your feet and head out of this town. Let the pigs settle down and start families. We don't want you. We don't need you. You're a wolf and we have no need.

I never thought I could be so bold to take a stance against what was coming out of your mouth. Sometimes knowledge has to take a stance against babble bullshit. There's no point in letting you poison our youth.

Let the whales continue on their path. Giant Squids let them rest. Stop grabbing on so tight. Keep your suctions to yourself.

Stop drop and quit kidding yourself, we'll eventually pack up and move out of this band. I don't know why you're so bent out of the shape about the way things have been going. This city is seeing hard times but I doubt there's any place better. Keep dreaming of Barcelona. Keep thinking about the Gold Coast off of Sydney. Keep telling yourself the Big Apple has gone rotten but you've just out grown your own tastes. There's no reasons why you can't move to another borough. Manhattan may now be too young for you to grind against your waist but there's no reason, no reason Queens can't service you just as well.

And I think it's gonna be a long long time...