write.

Sergeant Adkins died in my dream last

How long do you figure I need to sleep for everyone to be

The gun’s in my drawer, but I can still

A normal life would be nice, where do you buy

I can’t tell the distance between myself and real life

My name’s John Watson, I’m an army

She concludes that he hasn’t written a word, his therapist, but it’s not true. John has written a thousand words, just deleted them all again after staring at them for a while. Half-finished, broken sentences. Unusable.

Hey, he can relate. He can definitely relate.