and we sing [briar]

God, I should be grateful for a roof over my head.

No, really, the amount of washed up homeless junkies I see with nothing to protect them from harsh winters reminds me that I'm the lucky one. If things go south and I need to hide out somewhere then I know I've got a sanctuary, if I ever need back up then I know I'm a foot soldier in an army. Somehow expendable but somehow protected -- it's great being contradictory like that.

The clock tower may as well be dead silent, for when I look up it's empty with the except of me and my beers. God, it's great to be me.

Except it's not just me and my beer, someone else is here, Dutch right, yeah that's who she is and she looks like she could kick my ass. I give a small smile when she walks past. "Hey, you want a drink?"

Only being polite I suppose.