I don't need to breathe
when you look at me,
all I see is green
and I think
that we're in between
everything I've seen
in my dream,
have it once a week,
can't land on my feet
can't sleep,
have you underneath
all of my beliefs
keep it brief

I'll wait in the suite
Keep me off my feet

“You are not, that’s a lie,” Andrew says. “You have nothing planned.”
“You don’t know that, you can’t read my mind.”
“Says who? Maybe I can.”
“What am I thinking about now?” Neil asks.
“Nothing.”
Neil opens his mouth to disagree, but—“Okay, you win this time, but you really just got lucky—”
“Did I?”
“Yeah, there was a 90% chance the answer was going to be nothing.”
Andrew snorts. “Only 90%?”

ибо, вот, я лягу в прахе; завтра поищешь меня, и меня нет.