Last Rites at the Jane Hotel

Other people can be so disappointing, I need to spend more time alone
What gives us the right to be so depressing, 224 West 16th Street was our cathedral
These tears I cry for you must prove that I’m not the demon that I’m meant to be
You say you love me though just like you I’m too shady, knowing what you know
It must be hard to trust someone who’s so similar to yourself
Don’t you know it’s pointless to try and bully me into caring more,
It’s through no fault of your own, it’s really just the boredom of being someone’s captive
These tears I cry for you must prove that I’m not the demon that I’m meant to be
Drinking at the Jane Hotel until it was overrun by terrible people
We heard them say his name from the train
As usual eyes dead from anti-anxiety meds and the old gang grasping for air that’s not there
Seeking out my own authentic season in hell though it doesn't feel quite as pompous least not as I can tell
The misery loop that you sent me on it wrecked me for other summers
But now that I am free and almost alone down in Chelsea I feel better
Why would you ask why should you care how I am doing?
Do I bother you with those kinds of vapid questions anymore?
I wanna matter, I wanna be your friend not a poison
This kind of love, our kind of love is so demoralizing