So I guess that it's true...

Rein me in...

In the cold,

to warm me up again

the weather's coming in.

Breathing out,

a force to breathe back in,

the panic's setting in.

Let me out,

so I can get back in,

I'm freaking out again.

When days are long, I drift away...

He wonders if there is something wrong with him; that he can get so much from so little. All his joy comes from not doing much of anything at all. And especially nothing that involves other people. How he came to be like this, is uncertain. He must be very selfish, he thought, for he sets nothing and no-one right; all he wants is to be left in peace to make what he can of this problem called life for himself and his family. Is such a life sustainable? The only constant so far has been that people have left, for he knows he isn't really someone that brightens your day. And he has never really had a problem with that at all.