Two bullets in the TV…

You fill up my senses,
like a night in the forest,
like a mountain in springtime,
like a walk in the rain.

“S’music fucking sucks, right man?”
“…”
“Samatter? You don’ like conversa’in’r somethin?”
“…”
“Jesus, man, I’m just tryina make a connec–jesuschrististhatfuckingthingreal?”
“…”
“Okay I’m gone! I’m gone, don’t freak out on me all right, I’m gone!”

Like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean,
you fill up my senses;
come fill me again…

“Hey, handsome… you waiting for anyone?”
“…”
“Hey you, you’re way too good-looking to be staring at a glass like that…”
“…”
“Don’t feel like talkin?”
“…”
“Well shit, fuck you then!”

Come let me love you;
let me give my life to you.
Let me drown in your laughter;
let me die in your arms.

“Another.”
“Ain’t you had enough?”
“Another.”
“Eh, s’your liver.”

Let me lay down beside you;
let me always be with you.
Come let me love you;
come love me again…

“What’s the name of this one? John Denver, right?”
“Yeah, Annie’s song.”
“Why’s it fuckin playin at noon on a Wednesday?”
“Bit of a tradition, you might say.”
“Hah. Losers.”
“You don’t have to drink in here, son.”
“You refusin to serve me?”
“Looks like I am.”
“What kind of fucking place is this? Goddamned rotten son of a…”
“Another?”
“Another.”
“Play it again?”
“Play it again.”