But in a way, that's really the problem. Because it's not all bad. It's not all tragedy or clouds. If that were the case, things might actually make sense. If that were the way, your path would always be clear.
..But it's not.Instead, you find places to smile. Shelters from the rain. You'll always carry the venom, but you won't always have to use it.
Stranger in a strange land --Much as it twists the knife, there are things about this that you need. Things you have to go through. Things you don't want to turn your back on. The lady or the tiger. The lady and the tramp. The tiger with the cage door open.
but it's a dry heat, you know?
Over and over the weekend into the week, good intentions turned to ash. Words meant from the heart sinking like a pit in the throat, a welling in the eyes, and that sense that unless you get a hold of yourself right here and now, you may never be able to stop shaking.
Read it forwards, read it back. The meaning's the same no matter which way you go. Madam I'm Adam is never odd or even. Mr. Owl ate my metal worm will always be true. No matter how much you wish they would stop - you'll always know when Marge lets Norah see Sharon's telegram.
That's why I can't go back. That's why I can't just trust the thought. No matter how much I might want to, no matter how bright the path might appear, everyone knows the truth:
Swap God for a janitor,
rot in a jar of dog paws.
[Listening to: Dishwalla, "Winter Sun"]