There Are People Out There

And I Can't Stand The Idea Of Being Alone. I Can't Bear The Thought Of Being Free.

It's Only In Drugs Or Death We'll See Anything New, And Death Is Just Too Controlling.

Give Me Romance. Flash. Give Me Denial.

I Have A Secret Goal With My Editor - He Has Asthma And Uses His Inhaler, And After I Send Him A New Manuscript, I'll Have His Assistant Phone Me And Tell Me How Many Times He Had To Get His Inhaler Out While Reading A Draft. It's My Secret Laugh Meter.

Some Soap Opera, You Know, Real People Pretending To Be Fake People With Made-up Problems Being Watched By Real People To Forget Their Real Problems.