I gots me life.
I think I do.
I gots me love.
I know I don't.

I gots me riches.
That's damn not true.
I gots me feelings...
that I want to undo.

I gots me clouds,
in my head.
I gots me prayers,
in my bed.

I gots me hatred,
in my heart.
I gots me peace,
perhaps not.
I gots me wishes,
and those are a lot.

I gots me quarrels,
with myself.
I gots me troubles,
that I put on a shelf.

I gots me lots and lots of things,
I gots me a life,
that brings me drinks,
parties,
people,
and cheers,
but none that eradicate,
this web of fears.

What will you give me,
oh, auspicious stranger,
will you give me more of the above
or the latter?