Lately I’ve been visiting a stranger, he says that he’s a doctor of a psychiatric nature
He asks me all about you, he says I need a hobby, says it will make me happy to keep busy for a while
	He only asks me things I know, he says that it’s important, though
	I wish instead of asking he would tell me what to do
	He’s quite encouraging, as if he thought I could make anything
	Besides another failed attempt at getting over loving you

Lately I’ve been looking at the stars, trying to learn the constellations, making observations
I know Orion by now, and Cassiopeia, and I’ve a pretty good idea where the big and little dippers are
	But astronomy is not for me, as anyone with eyes can see
	I could watch that sky until the midnight turned to blue
	And even if I knew the myths, what would they only leave me with
	But another failed attempt at getting over loving you?

Lately I’ve been smoking long cigars, I imported them from Cuba, from Barbados and Bermuda
I’m not sure I like the taste of them, the sticky burning flavor, tho I’m quite fond of the paper that they wrap them in
	But who am I trying to kid? I don’t like smoking and I never did
	And I don’t give one good Goddam about where my tobacco grew
	And even if I smoked incessantly, what would it only ever be
	But another failed attempt at getting over loving you?

Lately I’ve been reading Russian novels from the latter nineteenth century, mainly Tolstoy and Dostoevsky
Sometimes I think I feel the same way as the characters they mention, who love in violent passion and dismay
	Who always seem to know what’s best, who get what they want and then get depressed
	Who suffer, bleed, and fight and die in search of something true
	But every time I reach the end, I realize all my reading’s been 
	Is another failed attempt at getting over loving you

Lately I’ve been seeking some vocation, I need a new bad habit, I’m afraid I still don’t have it yet
I’ve tried coin- and stamp collecting, chocolate and wine tasting, bicycle and horse-racing
	But I bet the coins on a losing horse, the stamps I sent to you, of course
	Along with all my letters and every chocolate that I knew
	And the wine that used to fill my shelf, I drank it quickly by myself
	In another failed attempt at getting over loving you

Lately I’ve been listening to music, I’m learning the piano, I’m really not that good, tho
I can play a couple major chords, a few scales in the minor, I find the latter kinder to me
	But what is all my practice for? I’m not improving, of that I’m sure
	And I don’t know the song to play that has my kind of blues
	And even if I found it out, what would I have to sing about
	But another failed attempt at getting over loving you?

A Series Of Failed Attempts At Getting Over Loving You

Should your laughter turn to tears, and should your smile straighten out
Should the minutes turn to years, and your assurances to doubt
And should there be only half as much love here as you say
If you never leave the path
You tell a joke and no one laughs
If you never learn to do the math, 
            I will still love you anyway
And should the ease become a strain, and should the work become a toil
And should our happiness be plain, and inseperable from soil
And should the tune become so flat which we always used to play
That the music won’t come back
We only hear it as a lack
Both because of and despite that
            I will still love you anyway
And should your looks begin to go, and should your wits begin to dim
And should your age begin to show, through the wrinkles on your skin
And should you become so old that your hair has all turned gray
When your stories have been told
And your teeth have all been pulled
And when you’re far too frail to hold
            I will still love you anyway
And when you are not here, and when I am by myself,
And when the future isn’t clear, and when you seem like someone else
I will not find you strange, nor will it be to my dismay
For in spite of how you change, 
you come in and out of range
It can’t be helped, you won’t be blamed
            I will still love you anyway
And if we never aren’t poor, and if I discover that you’re flawed
And if we always aren’t sure, and leave it mostly up to God
At least there will be love, when all else has passed away
And when pushing comes to shove
When I’m no longer who I was
And when nobody else does
            I will still love you anyway

I Will Still Love You Anyway

Met a cloud passin overhead through the windowpane right beside my bed
“Hello down there, are you,” it said, “Alive?”
I said “How am I to tell, sometimes I look alright when I feel like hell
I guess I’m doin well—enough to get by”

I met a tree out on highway nine, a lone handsome ponderosa pine
He said he wished he had legs like mine so he could run
I said I’ll give you these here boots if you teach me how to lay down roots
He said sometimes there’s substitutes, but this just aint one

And isn’t it just my luck—soon as I get goin, the goin get’s tough
Lose my shoes and the road gets rough on me again
I bet it all and they call my bluff, they leave me fifty cents when I need a buck
And I’m just trine to get out of bein stuck right where I am
I’m still standin in the same spot where I began
Cept I’m sunk now a little bit deeper in the sand
And I’m cryin out for help cause I need a hand
You know I’ll return the favor someday, if I can

I met a doctor who was ill, who said it was only a matter of time until
The disease would begin to kill him or itself
He asked me what my trouble was, I said I’m just waitin for my bell to buzz
And even if it never does, at least I got my health

I met a lady in a turquoise hat, she asked me a few questions about this and that
And in 30 seconds flat she forgot my name
She told me her biography, along with most of the whole world’s history
And for what escaped her memory she felt ashamed

Chorus

I got a pen that just won’t write, got a pack of matches, not a one will light
I got a song for you tonight, but it won’t make you stay
I got a knife that just won’t cut, a refrigerator door that won’t stay shut
I got a lot of things here, but what good are they?

I got one eye that just won’t blink, got a thirst I can’t quench with just one drink
I got a brain that just can’t think it’s troubles through
I got a parrot that won’t repeat, got a hunger in me that just don’t wanna eat
I got a heart that just won’t beat for no one else but you

Chorus

Stuck

It’s been a while now since the last time we talked
But I been tracing your footsteps in the paths that we walked
And I been kicking myself cause opportunity knocked—
And I didn’t know that it was my cue

And I’m remembering things that I shouldn’t’ve said
Thinking bout what I could’ve told you instead
It makes me wish sometimes that I were actually dead
Rather than merely regretful and blue

The cracks of my fingers the rain’s fallin through
What is it exactly you want me to do?
Maybe I’m losing my sane point of view
But it feels like—I don’t know
It feels like—I don’t know
It feels like I’m losing you—
It feels like I’m losing you

you changed all your habits to suit your new friends
To whom you were never more than a means to an end
You’re much further gone than even you can pretend
Yet you make believe none of it’s new

And you stand by and watch as your handiwork spoils:
As your patience expires and your temperature boils
and from your tenderest gesture the medusa recoils
as if to say it already knew

I’ve examined the floorplan the architect drew
Seems its somekind of labyrinth we’ve been wandering through
And maybe I’ve lost the thread that this needle went to
but it feels like—I don’t know
it feels like—I don’t know
it feels like I’m losing you

you take on too much, you’re like a martyr at dusk
the things that you once believed in you no longer trust
the machinery to help you has taken on rust
and you’ve bitten off more than you can chew

But when I saw you this morning—you seemed in a good place
You had a spring in your step and a smile on your face
I thought you’d be shipwrecked but it wasn’t the case
I wondered just what had come over you?

this war has been raging too long now, it’s true
what was my little big horn was your waterloo
sure, maybe I won me a battle or two
but it feels like—I don’t know
it feels like—I don’t know
it feels like I’m losing you
it feels like I’m losing you

Losing You

Midnight on the boulevard, you know that I been looking hard
For someplace I can rest my bones
The dumpster’s growing tentacles and the alley’s drawing animals
And my shoes are filling up with stones
headlights all around me flash and splash and try drown me
as invisibly I make my way
billboards, with their promises of futures bleak and ominous
saying everything’s gonna be okay
there’s holy men in beggar’s clothes, schoolgirls in their pantyhose
policemen dressing for the raid
anyplace I sit or stand I’m in the way of the marchingband
or some exclusive VIP parade
Got a ticket to ride the rocket putting a hole right through my pocket
They say they’ve got her loaded, gassed and primed
With nothing else to recommend, and no regards to leave or send
I think I’ll go and get in line
If tomorrow I just disappeared,
I’m not sure that I’d be missed
The answer’s not a part of me
I only know there’s gotta be more to life than this

The sheriff and his band of droogs is out tonight in one of their moods
They say they’re looking for the saboteurs
Nobody seems to know a thing, and as for the fellas in the ring
They’s just settling up old scores
Diamond Joe and his brother Ace spoke of meeting up someplace
As an act of service to their queen
They’d been assigned a mission that may have required demolition
By now they’re probably blown to smithereens
There’s blood smeared on the mantlepiece of every house on Market St
I’ve heard it’s precautionary for the plague
But as for how it’s sposed to help, you gotta figure that one out yourself
The instructions left were pretty vague
You can follow the road to nowhere or you can take it from one who’s been there
who drank the kool-aid from the source
haul in your anchor, hoist your sails, don’t look back, if all else fails
shout for “Mercy!” til your voice goes hoarse
If tomorrow were all I had
I’d blow it one last lover’s kiss
I’m not one to act modestly
I only know there’s gotta be more to life than this—

I got here around six o’clock, the breadline's already down the block
The hopeless ones have placed their bets
The early birds have all skipped town, the ones a little bit further down
don’t even know what they’re in line to get
The grocer’s peddling contraband with a stick of dynamite in his hand
He’s always asking for the time
We’ve been through the whole thing twice, but even if he lowered the price
Could anybody spare a dime?
Patience is a virtue, too much of anything will hurt you
Therefore—whatever’s a man to do?
I’m just waiting on my payday, but even so it’s only Monday
And I need something to look forward to
Disguised as one of my former selves, I followed the casino bells
dealer told me fate was mine to choose
I had the king, the ace, the ten, but I told him to go and hit me again
Cause I only ever play to lose
If tomorrow I struck it rich
I’m not sure I’d feel bliss
Accustomed to my poverty
I only know there’s gotta be more to life than this

feeling like a change of scene, I moved into a submarine
I tried to write you though I was feeling full
The envelopes, still unaddressed, accumulated in a chest
That I ejected through the torpedo hole
someday when I’m dust and ash, they may wash up like so much trash
decorations for some pristine beach
To whomsoever findeth these, I send sincere apologies
I’m still out here, somewhere, out of reach
With nothing but my strength of will, my boulder and my stretch of hill
I once more for the thousandth time
Set my weight against the rock, imagine, but don’t check the clock
And gradually begin to climb
In the event I plummet sometime before I reach the summit
I hardly think it’s worth a frown
When you’ve only ever had it bad, the only thing that’ll make you glad
Is seeing the weight you dragged up roll back down
If tomorrow I wake up dead
I’d not protest, but I’d still wish—
that someone had only thought of me
reminded me that there’s gotta be more to life than this

More To Life

Filled my gastank up with gas—I had to pay the man
Cop pulled me over for drivin too fast—I had to pay the man
Pulled up straight to an old toll-gate where a fella held out his hand
I mistook it, and shook it—and then I had to pay the man

I ate something that made me sick—I had to pay the man
I needed medical attention quick—I had to pay the man
Doctor performed an operation, took out a swollen gland
He said I’s lucky, he saved my life—and I had to pay the man

Woe is me is nothing free in this godforsaken land?
Can’t I even own what’s mine—no ifs buts or ands
I work all day for a measly pay, I’m so tired I can hardly stand
As soon as I get off the clock I got to pay the man

I took my girlfriend out to eat—I had to pay the man
Wanted to use the W.C.—I had to pay the man
Fella’s in the bathroom givin out towels, sayin they’re to dry my hands
Then he looks at me expectantly—I had to pay the man

I went to visit mom and dad—I had to pay the man
Took a bus, a train, and a taxi-cab—I had to pay the man
When I got home I’s so worked up I shut the door and it slammed
My father says, “you know the rules,” –and I had to pay the man

chorus

I wanted to use a utility—I had to pay the man
Water, heat, electricity—I had to pay the man
the furnace popped and the power stopped and the water it froze and jammed
had to call someone to fix em all—and I had to pay the man

Well on Sunday I went down to mass—and I had to pay the man
arrived just in time for the plate to pass—and I had to pay the man
Father said, “You won’t be judged—just give up what you can,”
But I swear I couldn’t get out them doors—until after I paid the man

chorus

I expect one night I’ll go and die—and I’ll have to pay the man
Folks’ll gather round and cry—and I’ll have to pay the man
Let my epitaph be plain—I don’t want nothing grand
Let it read: “I’s born, I lived, and I had to pay the man”

Bound or free, alive or dead—I had to pay the man
Didn’t matter what no one said—I had to pay the man
Well I wanted to know where my money’s goin—I wanted to understand
I asked the first person I met—I had to pay the man

I went ahead and checked my facts—about having to pay the man
Seems every time I pay a tax—I’m payin uncle Sam
He spends it so our planes can go drop bombs on a foreign land
He says I shouldn’t be concerned, it’s all-American

If my money’s gonna fund a war—I ain’t gonna pay the man
If it’ll get a kid killed on a foreign shore—I ain’t gonna pay the man
When we got bad schools right here at home, poverty to beat the band
I’d rather pay a teacher’s salary than to pay that awful man

Pay The Man

As I was riding down the road / of a country strange, homeward bound
A gust of wind rose from the east / and knocked me sprawling to the ground
My horse, tho startled, didn’t fall / he only reared and neighed and fled
I called his name but he’d gone too far / I was stranded, helpless, left for dead

In the muddied ditch I lay awhile / from consciousness I came and went
Until I startled at the sound / of a drunken carriageman’s lament
He’d only stopped to rest his horse / and permit an overdue relief
I scared him nearly half to death / when I begged for him to “Help me—please!”

He hoisted me into his ride / two passengers already were aboard
a prospector heading for his mine, and a Lady going to meet her Lord
they took me in and nursed my wounds / from a scarf the Lady fashioned me a sling
they asked to know from whence I came / but I couldn’t remember anything

we drove all night until the dawn / by sun-up we had made the town
the driver stopped at the Blue Hotel / told the concierge to bring the doctor down
the doctor was a shiftless man / he smelled of whiskey something fierce
his arms were bare but for tattoos / his ears and lips and nose were pierced

he carried me up to his room and gave me something for the pain
I passed out almost immediately / when I awoke, we were on the move again
This time it was a different scene / I’s in a box-car bound and gagged
The conductor, through his surgeon’s mask, / gave me a morsel and said it was all he had

At the station we were shuffled off / some people had already died
Another carriage found me there / I’s ordered to “Hurry! Get inside!”
I was taken to a large estate / where I served a man of much esteem
Eventually I earned his trust / and learned to interpret all his dreams

He found my skills so excellent, he decided I should meet the king
And when the king looked on my face, he burst into tears, remembering
He said I was his long-lost son, finally at last come home again
He said, My horse arrived years before—they figured I’d been robbed and slain!

He stripped my siblings of their rites, their inheritance to me conferred
Introduced me to my fiancé; that same night I married her
At dawn I rose to walk the grounds and see what memories I could wake
I found the gardener in his grove, he said I’d made a grave mistake

He said my wife’d forsaken me, and had become his lover since
he told me that she loved him still, but of that I remained unconvinced
he challenged me unto a duel and offered me a loaded gun
we took ten paces from ourselves, turned and fired—he lost, I won

the gunshot roused a sleeping guard / who arrived in time to see the death
the gardener laid the blame on me / with his dying final breath—
I fled to my old and ragged horse, a beast unfit to bear a prince—
a gust of wind rose from the east, which I’ve been chasing ever since…

A Gust Of Wind

A borrowed suit emerging from a rented limousine
At an empty filling station, a mile from the red car-pet—
The tank now overflowing, covers him in gasoline
He takes a step back to ignite himself one final cigarette
And while they pray and pray—even as the angels sing
Their eyes they stray, when their miracle appears—
Someplace else maybe you’d think to call it interesting
But o, you know it’s just another day round here

The girlfriend of the governor finally made it to his place
When he got there, she was laughing with his wife who had made tea
As a curious expression made its way onto his face
She calmly said, “It’s a funny thing your wife here was telling me,”
chorus

At the meeting of the generals they’ve begun gambling with souls
Disputing lines they’ve scribbled on a map that’s poorly drawn
The leaders of large countries endorsing things they won’t divulge
Til someone blows the whistle and turns the war back on
chorus

Running rampant in the castle’s vacant halls
The ghost of Hamlet dancing with a goblet of champagne
Candlepin bowling with the madame’s crystal ball
Shouting slander from the parapet, prophesying rain
Chorus

Flotsam floating in the mind’s discrete mirage
Reveals a keepsake stolen from a bookcase that was a door
Later it will turn up in some framed-criminal’s garage
Who will turn it over, saying, “I’ve never seen that thing before—”
chorus

Inside the Zone there are still many places you can’t go
“There’s too much radiation” read the signs in foreign words
You could build a mighty fortress with all the things you’ll never know
If you hadn’t written off impossibles as being for the birds
chorus

the city hides an alley where a man holds out a cup
he rings a bell on Christmas Eve, dressed as Santa Claus
he’s dying and he knows it but he can’t seem to give up
the thought that someone will take pity and give unto his cause
chorus

the hero from his armchair gazes at the frozen scene
a painting he was given for his bravery in the war
in the quiet of the lamplight he still hears the dead marines
while his wife in the nursery shouts, “I can’t take this anymore—”
chorus

stamping passports at the entrance of the gate
an official’s asking everyone the purpose of their trip:
a man who’s fleeing circumstance, leaving home because of hate
is told: I’m sorry, sir, your answer doesn’t seem to fit
chorus

Jesus on the cross cried out “Why has thou Forsaken me?
Did I not accomplish everything that you desired?”
God said nothing but someone shouted pityingly,
“hey man don’t you realize you’ve just been preaching to the choir?”
Chorus

The asylum after midnight is an escalating plot:
A wheelchair has gone missing and a patient can’t be found
Someone’s dumped the medication in the nurse’s coffee pot
Any minute now the fire-alarm is probably going to sound
Chorus

the tax-man’s come to gather up the store-owner’s receipts
but he’s out collecting mercy from the parson, for his soul
while the barber’s window takes a brick thrown in by the police
the farmer’s out to pasture, being gored by his own bull
chorus

America the beautiful for all your amber waves of grain
for instituting freedom with a rifle and a cage
For perfect mountain majesties above the fruited plain
For corruption, waste, hypocrisy, insanity and rage
chorus

Just Another Day Round Here

Well I had me a girlfriend a while ago; I loved her, and she loved me
So I got the crazy notion to ask her if she’d want to start a family
She said yes, we both got dressed and went before the priest
He said “Anyone know why these two shouldn’t wed? Speak now or hold your peace!”

Well grandpa jumped up in his mighty old age and he said “there’s one reason I can see
Getting married’s not all fun and games, it’s a lot of responsibility
I don’t want to say you can’t do it, it’s just that there’s a lot to risk
Soon as you have kids, they’ll take all you got, then forget that you exist—

And that’s all the thanks you’ll get
All the thanks you’ll get
You work hard to keep a roof abovem
They call you liar when you tellem you love em
All the thanks you get
All the thanks you get
It’s a raw deal, full-time gig
And you sure can’t raise em like your parents did
Otherwise they’ll just try and get rid—of you

Well I went to school like folks said I should and I graduated in four years
and soon as I had received my diploma, they said, now find yourself some career
well I looked around and I couldn’t find nothing until one day, suddenly
I got a job hauling furniture for a moving company

my first day there, they threw this party for a guy they all admired
said he’d been with the company forty years and was time for him to retire
course he was injured something terrible, he could barely keep up his head
but when he saw what he got for severance pay, this is what he said:

That’s all the thanks I get
All the thanks I get?
broke my back, ruined my knees
paid all my own hospital fees
and that’s all the thanks I get?
All the thanks I get?
For all the time and effort I gave
Just to be treated like a slave
A one way ticket to an early grave—is my reward?

Well I was walking by the recruiting office, with my thumb I was flippin a coin
A man was out there telling me that Uncle Sam wanted me to join
I said, “Join what?” and the recruiter said, “Why, buddy, that’s all up to you—”
Air Force, Navy, National Guard—long as it’s red, white, and blue,”

Well I was about to sign up when all of a sudden another man comes up to me
He’s in a wheelchair and he’s got no legs and he’s wearing military fatigues
The recruiter told him to get lost, but the fella shouted out “Beware!”
He said, “I used to be just like you, now stead of legs all I got’s this chair—”

And that’s all—the thanks you’ll get
That’s all—the thanks you’ll get
fight and kill just to stay alive
Make it home, you start to wish you had died
All—the thanks you’ll get
All—the thanks you’ll get
I’m a shell-shockd, manic-depressed
Got shards of shrapnel in my chest
Had nothing to start, now I got less—than that

Well I was feeling sorta lost and a little confused about what I ought to do
Seems like everywhere I could think to go, there was some good reason not to
Friend of mine told me to seek some counsel, the counselor said, “Try church”
I said alright, I need help, I don’t see how that could hurt

The preacher that Sunday was preachin a sermon bout this fella named Jesus Christ
Who helped the poor and healed the sick and never sinned in his whole life
Who taught humanity all the lessons it would ever need to learn
Who was betrayed, tortured, mocked, flogged and crucified in return

And that’s all the thanks you’ll get
all the thanks you’ll get
you see a problem and you try to be kind
people treat you like you’re out of your mind
all the thanks you’ll get
all the thanks you’ll get
you try to do a simple favor
lend a hand to your struggling neighbor
he don’t give you nothing for your labor—hell no—just a slap in the face

All The Thanks You'll Get

There’s a feeling in the atmosphere that a storm’s about to break
The sky’s about as bruised as it could be
If I don’t tell her how I feel it’ll be my own mistake
A girl like that won’t wait around for me

The forecast says precipitation’s likely—99%
I guess that means there’s still a chance it won’t
But there I go inventing each explanation to prevent
Me from doing what I ought to if I don’t

Here goes nothing I suppose
To tell her I love her and show her how
I been saving for a rainy day—and hey, what do you know?
It’s raining now

the weatherman’s been drawing crazy circles on his chart
he says he thinks it’s going to rain on our parade
is there something I can do to help in case this falls apart
what was it just now you were going to say?

It started kind of gentle now it’s raining cats and dogs
I regret that I’m not a little more prepared
First I’m stranded in the desert, now I’m trapped in the mirage
It might look to brave to you from out there, but truth be told I’m scared

Chorus

I looked out my attic window, it’s still morning but it’s dark
I feel like I’ve still got a lot to say
My next-door neighbor, Noah, built himself a little ark
Awhile ago I watched him sail away

If it weren’t for drought season I’d’ve probably already drowned
I’m not one who’s been known for making plans
the survivor in me’s thinking we should head for higher ground
but the thought of leaving you’s what keeps me standing where I am—

chorus

It's Raining Now

I’m not lazy—I just like to rest
I’m not dirty—just not too clean, I guess
I’m not happy—but I’m doin my best
To play the hand that I been dealt
I ain’t quitting—I’m just on a break
I’m not guilty—I just made a small mistake
It’s not a setback, really—just a slight headache
It ain’t nothing that time won’t help

But you know I haven’t come to tell you
What by now you must already know
There’s so little that has any value—
There’s only a few ways it could possibly go—

I feel like my engine’s gone and lost a piston
Like I built a kingdom just to let it fall
You can’t resist once you’re inside the system—
And I’m just a little annoyed is all

I’m not a cheapskate—I’m just moneywise
I’m not dishonest—I just prefer my old disguise
I’m not startled–I’m just kind of surprised
I didn’t know you were that kind of girl—
I ain’t cryin—it’s just raining out
I’m not hopeless—I’m just full of doubt
I don’t need you—I’d just prefer not to be without
Lord, it is a lonely world!

but don’t let it go gettin your feathers ruffled
there’s really nothing else you could’ve done
the announcer’s voice coming through the mic was muffled
it could’ve happened to you, me or anyone—

I swear the lengths they’ve gone to to see I’d be deprived—
Would almost make you think that my life weren’t small
But no one makes it out of this world alive
And I’m just a little annoyed is all—

I’m not depressed—I just prefer the blues
I’m not indecisive—I just don’t wanna haveta choose
I’m not complaining—I’m just looking to improve
This antiquated old machine
I ain’t weak—I’m just not that strong
We’re not incompatible—we just don’t really get along
It ain’t alright—don’t you get me wrong
I ain’t sayin it’s peachy-keen

Sometimes I wish it would all go backwards
You’d begin at grief and move headlong into loss
You’d heal up as soon as you removed the daggers
you regain everything when you refund the cost—

But without an ending, there ain’t no story
No happily ever after after all
The case is closed with the hanging jury
And I’m just a little annoyed is all—

I’m not sick—I just don’t feel all that well
It’s not a secret—I just don’t really care to tell
I’m not withholdin—I just don’t have anything good to sell
or anything more to subtract—
I’m not crazy—I just haven’t found my groove
I’m not vindictive—I just don’t really like to lose
I’m not unjustified—I just don’t got no good excuse
Is there anything wrong with that?

Won’t somebody give me some instruction
On whatever a man’s supposed to do?
I can’t seem to make any logical deduction
I can’t have my cake and eat it, too

I feel like a powder keg what’s about to burst
Soon they’ll be scrapin me off the wall—
I’m surrounded by water and I’m dyin of thirst
And I’m just a little annoyed is all

I’m not a hard case—I’m just difficult
I don’t intend it—you know that much yourself
I’m not in trouble—I just need a little bit of help
At some point, hell, don’t we all?
I’m not wrongheaded—I’m just incorrect
I’m not crazy—I’m just a little out of step
I’m not angry—I’m not even that upset
I’m just a little annoyed is all

Just A Little Annoyed Is All

a cup of coffee still sits untouched
Right where I left it back there in the diner
Her message sounded like she’d been rushed
I thought I knew where I might find her
So I crossed several dozen mid-sized states
Along a road she had once named her shortcut
believing as I recalled her stubborn traits
that Love was one thing she’d never aim to forfeit
But my instinct’s slow—to overthrow
Any notion that the worst’s come true
any chance I’d take—if it’d help me make
My way back to you

a soldier stopped me where the road dissolved
and showed me your portrait from the riot
he said, “She’s wanted—we think she’s somehow involved,”
I knew exactly what he meant by it;
So I followed the river to the shore
When I came to the sea, I went ahead and crossed it
The ferryman told me not to bother him no more
“If ever you ever had any luck with me, you’ve just gone and lost it”
Now I’m on the road—it’s getting cold
I’m inside out—I’m black and blue
I’m left behind—still trine to find
My way back to you

The signs say one thing, but they mean something else
In the end it’s all somehow connected
If you want to get something done in this life, you’d better go and do it by yourself
But look out: it won’t be at all what you expected
The clues I’ll gather, the leads, exhaust
If there only were some way, I would quit hoping
All the crime scene tape reads: Do Not Cross
And when the gun turns up, it’s never smoking
I’m in a daze—unamazed
feeling something not unlike deja vu
for goodness sake, I’m just trine to make
my way back to you

I still don’t know if you’ll make the time for me
I don’t need to know yet, I can wait and see—

So I’ll wander down along the beaten path
I ain’t no pioneer, no trailblazer
You think I’m out for glory—hell, don’t make me laugh
I just wish I could reign in my own behavior
I’ll never give up, I’ll never cease to try—
I never did know how to surrender
They tell me beauty’s something exists in the beholder’s eye
But it feels like it’s her spell that I’m under—
It’s one more excuse—to win or lose
feel like my nine lives by now’s down to two
I’m in a pinch—just trying to inch
my way back to you

in a different place, maybe, at another time
in the event of some extreme reversal
if it was you who had fallen, been stricken blind
and the story had made it round, full-circle
maybe if we’d checked it sooner from running completely wild
none of this ever would have happened—
I just wish you could be reconciled
Being that there’s nothing left for your subtraction
I’m in the gale—I’m on the trail
I’m almost done—I’m nearly through
I’m making time—still trine to find
My way back to you

Back To You

Sam Steffen is a folksinger/songwriter. He lives in Boise, ID with his wife and dog.

Sam Steffen

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