All we had were hand-me-downs. All we had was Goodwill.

Well, I wanted to see a just little bit of everything.

Madelyn, I love you, but we both know how this ends.

I'm staring at Hemingway's shotgun. I picture him drinking alone. He's forgetting things that he wouldn't have before. His eyesight's starting to go. And I heard all about how his plane went down after Christmas in the Congo, he read about his own death in the paper.

We're all waiting for good news, hoping you can come home soon.

I'll blame the way that I was brought up, or the flaws that I was born with, or the mistakes that I've made. They're all just fucking excuses.

These northeast winters make boys into men.

I was born to run away from anything good, an escape artist’s son with sun-drenched pavement in my blood.

Sorry for what's in the magazines.

Yeah, I came out swinging but I’m still walking out with two black eyes and a split lip.

If everyone’s built the same, then how come building’s so fucking hard for you?

I can't play video games 'cause I always end up depressed.

Goddamn, you look holy bathed in the January light.

I've got my heart strung up on clothing line through tenement windows.

We're no saviours if we can't save our brothers.

I knew a lot of talented kids who got lost in painkillers and turned into nothing. Sometimes I can still feel it pulling, but I just can't let that happen.

You're where the light pollution starts.

They're all paying for bullets to shoot at my feet.

If I could manage not to fuck this up.

I spent this year as a ghost and I'm not sure what I'm looking for. A voice on a phone that you rarely answer anymore.

You used to be vibrant. You used to burn bright.

I'm feeling homesick for things that don't think of me.

All my friends are in bar bands. (I don't know how it happened.)

You're just trying to read but I'm always standing in your light.

I got called in in the morning, talked into a double and left after 9. And now I'm at home, just me and my student loans.

I'm finding hope in the pocket of my winter coat.

There's always been a table for me there.

I'll put my life back together in silence while writing songs on Molly's guitar.

I’m sure there ain’t a heaven, but that don’t mean I don’t like to picture you there.

I just close my eyes and I'm already there. It's already too late. I know it's nothing but lies. But they sound so sincere, I find them hard to hate.

This house is haunted, I can't live in here anymore.

I swear I'll never let you down again.

Because I'm sick of seeing ghosts and I know how it's all gonna end. There's no triumph waiting. There's no sunset to ride off in. We all want to be great men and there's nothing romantic about it. I just want to know that I did all I could with what I was given.

When you reap what they sow, do you carry the weight alone?

I've been acting like I'm strong, but the truth is, I've been losing ground to a hospital too crowded, a summer winding down. I hadn't seen a heart break until now. I hadn't felt a heartbreak until now.

Oh, god, could you stay? I need you to stay. I need you to stay. I need you.

We got off the airplane, a couple of runaways. I was hoping you'd stay. Could you stay?

I'll feel better when the headaches go away.

I'm exploding on re-entry, scattered wreckage in the sea. Everything's been gray forever — it's how it's always gonna be. I've never been more sure of something, I see it clearly in my dreams. I know I'm gonna be the one, the one who ruins everything.

You're the reason I can't leave here yet, the reason I don't want the world to end.

Coming undone at the seams.

We won't bury you.

A heart attack shoveling snow all alone. If I die, I wanna die in the suburbs.

My mother wore a sundress on the day that she got married.

The brink of defeat, we're totally fucked. I'm out on my feet, I'm waking back up.

I know how it looked when I fell to pieces around you.

You left me walking in circles. You were a shot in the dark. You were the banner that says "No One" that I tattooed across my heart.

The most famous person to come out of here was the guy that played Leatherface in all those chainsaw massacres.

No one wants to hear your sappy bullshit.

I buried your memory in the garden, watch it grow with the flowers in the spring, keep you with me.