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Chris Martini was down in out. He travelled the streets in search of a feat. He stepped with his feet in search of love. He had nothing left. All he could do was wait.
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| All that sweet, silly talk... I'm so depressed. | |
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And he didn't know just how to feel. What could this feeling be, he asked. Am I really somebody important? How can I call myself myself when all I do is cry?
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| I wish I felt more like Jesus' son... | |
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Is there an answer in the story? Is there more to life than that fine morning glory?
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| ... and not like all the dead bodies piled up in mounds. I guess I just don't know. | |
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| you need smack, kid! (smackid) | |
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