We Were Always A Losing Game
Small-town Boy In A Big Arcade
I Got Addicted To A Losing Game ...
Oh-oh-oh-oh, Oh-oh-oh-oh
All I Know, All I Know
Loving You Is A Losing Game...
Saturday
7:56
Coffee is on. The big hand closes the small machine. He pours it into the pot of sugar, and milk, a sigh. Ira looks out into the pouring rain. Now the rainy weather is coming to New York. He scratches the back of his neck. He slept on the sofa, and it was uncomfortable, especially since he"s not a small person.
