To Make My Peace With You: The Worst In Me/ The Day That Lennon Died

The Worst In Me/ The Day That Lennon Died

I need my space
I need – what I can’t seem to explain to you
Dowsing for purpose
I need… to do what I’m supposed to do
Captivity has stunted my… pursuit
But honestly, I would be so lost if you turned me loose

I need my space
I need – to nurture what I used to be
I used to laugh… so much
But now I hide in the comedy

“It’s getting better… all the time”
You always tell me – ah, but I find
Nothing’s better in my mind
I’m always waiting for somebody to die

This world keeps bringing out the worst in me
I try so hard to keep it from showing
Where to begin?
How do you open up a crumpled heart?
This junkman’s junk

I saw her face
I saw – it briefly in a subway crowd
I woke up gasping
And you saw… more than I meant my eyes to allow
Complacency has bartered my… spirit
And honestly, though the band still plays, I don’t hear it

I see your face
I see – what all these games have done to you
You used to laugh… so much
But now you ornament the room

And nothing more… seems to come
Of all the conquests that we once won
Nothing’s new beneath this sun
Oh, mama, happiness is still a warm gun

This world keeps bringing out the worst in me
I try so hard to keep it from showing
Where to begin?
How do you open up a crumpled heart?
This junkman’s junk
I’ve had enough!

* * *

I just need to hear – a happy song
Maybe go and see – a funny film
Or just go out for a while…
And forget how much I care
A change of scene would do me good
Things are getting to me more than they should
Things I keep selling to myself…
Oh, if only you were there
To see just how low I have come
The songs I wish could be unsung
We used to listen to the Beatles
Now we listen to the news

We never had a chance
We weren’t even alive
The day that…
Optimism died
The day that optimism died
The day that optimism died
The day that imagination died

Imagine just for a moment
That we could start where we began
You think that shooting star – babe, could we hold it?
I’m holding out my hand

Let’s go lay flowers on the steps
Where they say John Lennon died
We never had a chance
We weren’t even alive

Imagine just for a moment
That we could start where we began
Do you think that we could hold it?
Or would we throw it back again?

* * *

I need my space
I need – you to wait like I waited for you




June 7, 2007