I Don't Have Much In My Life But Take It, It's Yours

These autumn leaves seems to be everlasting. They pick on me as they twirl through the wind, whistling this years trials, how I haven't had many triumphs. I want to be feel sane, to be admired. I want to wake up on certain mornings full of effervescence. Morrissey said it the best, but is it too much to ask for?