How do you connect with anyone around you

When I hurt about the way that people are in the middle

Falling out of conversations I’m writing

But i’m not sure who we’re supposed to be

In the middle; falling out of conversations

I’m writing philosophies on misanthropy

In the middle; we’re falling out of

I’ll write you when I get home

And know where I’m supposed to be

It’s too bad all the stories we made up

Where they came from was pure fiction, I’m tired of this scene

And I’m a bet that says “no good Hemingway gets drunk and writes Something bad about me”

Well why do I care, it’s your life and I’ve no say