Too much, he says, Too much for one alone. Religion was the first stop. Stop. Stop those little voices. Room for one more? No! No room at the inn. Talk. He wouldn't talk. Looked for refuge for weeks in the bottom of a bottle. That green tint isn't envy. Waste of space. Wouldn't admit any problem. No problem. No More than that, you're fired, fucking useless. Never Say he didn't try. Lying on grass by the road. Life's a hard thing to lose.