You Are the Answer to My Security Question

So I might whine about the distance or write up some new fiction
Hope for some condolences while she draws idly
She says to «enjoy my little misfires,» and «the fact that I’m alive,»
— I'm sketching dramatics into every line
Cause I’m not on the right path, just the one of least resistance
And despite this trite existence, I’m getting better all the time
I’m getting better all the time
And I want to be scared of the truth in fiction and all of our heartbreak
correspondence because the thought of a fleeting impression, — it scares me to
death
So I might whine about the distance because I care so much sick,
and you’ll probably just be pissed and I didn’t even think of it
Cause I’m not on the right path, just the one of least resistance
And despite this trite existence, I’m getting better all the time
I’m getting better all the time