So here i lay
with every thing i say
drunk out of my wits
reminiscing old bits
i watch a show, a familiar show
it hooks me on, like old love flows
only murders in the building?
I see but myself, yielding
what is hurt that lasts so long
when is it time to move past oolong
is it time that gives you life
or life that gives you hurt?
i thought you said we’d go solo
but who in the fuck, was Tim Kono?
Frame of reference 