"How many of you are there?"
"Thousands on the roads, the abandoned railtracks, tonight, bums on the outside, libraries inside."
But don't forget the songs
That made you cry
And the songs that saved your life.
The struggles I'm facin’
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down but
No I'm not breakin’
I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I'm gonna remember most yeah
Just gotta keep going
He had an almost overwhelming temptation to shout a string of filthy words at the top of his voice.
Or to bang his head against the wall, to kick over the table, and hurl the inkpot through the window--to do any violent or noisy or painful thing that might black out the memory that was tormenting him.