A history of overwhelming inadequacy.
There's always someone there to put me in my place.
With immeasurable standards that I can't seem to face.
Why am I never the man,
Why am I never the son,
Why am I never the friend,
The something more I wish I could be?
And I mark my calendar.
Keep a tight schedule of eventual letdowns.
How could I expect you to be any different?
And I've had enough reality checks.
And I've been sizing my belts to fit around my neck.
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