Others often confuse it for aggression. When he hit the chorus the escape was moving and passionate. [oh, please] rock the forty ounce, it's the change that counts Whether it was from the drugs inhaled or the sing(shout)-a-long around the stove, everyone, at the end of the night, goes to bed content and high-spirited. (There might have been crack in that pipe) The attack is reserved for the morning after and it begins with a simple throat ache. Now, up/in there, the words are sung with a mocking tone. ohh, I'm not going back. No no. oohhhh I have something to say. I won't. I'm scared that once written it will be final. Also, I am manic so I've learned to never trust my current emotions. For now, things aren't well.