there are ways i'm not telling the truth. all sneaky-like. all sleek-y-like. i'd cough all my lungs out for you. with my quiet ways. and innocent half-lies. i'm okay, i say. they don't know what it is yet. and you, like a chicken with its head chopped off, you never did see me coming. i'd have to see all the doctors in the world for you. but i'm okay now, i say, all doped up.