When I'd get up in the morning, he'd make me breakfast. Now...

When I'd get up in the morning, he'd make me breakfast. Now he's not around anymore. God. I'm doing to do well, but when I come down to it, who really cares? I like doing my job, but I'm not happy being victorious. I fight my heart out and give it my best, but when it's over, there's no Cus to tell me how I did, no mother to show my clippings to.