I can't finish anything
'Cause I can't start
 I feel a constant swelling
 In the lining 'round my heart

 I have a certain quietude
(That means that I'm morose)
 I want to write a masterpiece
 But I'm not even close

 The year is closing in and I
 Am where I was before:
 This stuff I've always fed off
 Isn't helping
 Anymore