Saving crowds from the roar from the cutting room floor
Played it at night in his dreams
Woke up was cold and his manager had sold him
It’s louder than love but don’t think I know what it means

Nobody’s talking and who tells you when to go home
Guess I wore out my welcome, it’s better than being alone
And it’s Gullible’s Travels and nothing unravels this way
Just another lost journey where everything’s turning away
- Soul Asylum, Gullible's Travels

Yah another pessimistic the-whole-world-can-just-land-on-their-noses-tomorrow-and-I-wouldn't-give-a-flying-banana-but-laugh-instead lyric. The pun on the title tickled me greatly though. Humour in the wrong way. Yes I am getting too lazy to even write my own poetry.
Was it just yesterday when I visited Moral Welfare Services on a CIP Mission with the guitar peeps and had a learning albeit cliched experience? And resolved to make a little more of my extremely privileged life? I felt like such a skank. I mean, come on. Determination to have fun, plastered smile, pseudo-caring-and-charming interaction with individuals you'd be embarrassed to be seen with if you didn't get your hours in return.
If only I could just learn to give a little more. But a lot of times I wonder who would even want it?