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Do you remember when we were all at school, and we were all silly, and we used to throw glue sticks at the ceiling, cos we wanted to, and what the fuck was she gonna do? Miss Lovett, there's 30 of us and one of you. But glue stops sticking, Lovett's tears had to dry. I don't think we were malicious, just a bit fucked up inside. One of us was called Billy. Billy fucking loved it, dreamed of glue sticks every night, till years later, Billy was at a party and this girl, she was drunk out of her mind, and Billy felt silly. So Billy flicked off the lights, cos he wanted to, and what the fuck was she gonna do. He was screaming "There's one of me and none of you"! But some things don't stick, some tears never dry, and those of us, he knew we were all surprised. But Billy wasn't malicious, nah. Just a bit fucked up inside.
