why, i wonder, is my heart full of holes?

In the corn maze of my sad late night brain grumblings is a bird's eye documentary, a voyeuristic half-truth where she is too good and I'm still just a worthless piece of shit who somehow got lucky. Summerteeth came out in 1999 and I didn't even know Tweedy yet but his worries and his wear are mine. "It's for you, I swoon." But is it for you, or is it for me?