your brow it knits your hands they fold
a tale of tragedy untold
walks with you everywhere you go
I know
it’s bound to get better

I don’t know why you must cry in the first place
it’s really not the thing to do
the scenario you draw is the worst case
of what you can expect your next time through

you’ve some reason to complain
about some pain you can’t explain
it only happens in your brain
it’s plain
insane

I don’t know why you must cry in the first place
it’s really not the thing to do
the scenario you draw is the worst case
of what you can expect your next time through

stare at the ceiling and the wall
you need three people to install
a lightbulb in your wherewithall
don’t call me
and I won’t call you


Copyright Hills Snyder, 1977