Cry Me A River
I ran away to the loo and did a massive cry, the silent, running, can't keep the water in your eyes, head against the porcelin and wishing you could smash your brains in kind of cry.
And just let whatever neurotransmitter or toxin or whatever it is that's built up do its job and wash out of you. It wouldn't happen if you didn't need it to.
And now I'm back at my desk, waiting to run the downloads, and a random MySpace survey made me smile with its mad questions about which musician you wanted to marry, so I said I would marry Benjamin, but purely because I was using him to get to his pedals. So I'd marry him, and run off with his pedals, leaving him all alone, sad and lonely, with no choice but to write another heartbreaking work of staggering genius like their last album. And then we're all happy. In our unhappiness.
Right, do you think those buggers are off the system yet?