I’m not the man you used to know. The road was long, I had to go and step out of my own two feet. You understand. Our eyes don’t lock the way they used to speak without a single word. We lost the language somewhere. It fell from our hands. I love the way you used to be and you were awfully fond of me but I am strange and scarred. Too serious to hang around.
But when in doubt? Give in. Rally ‘round the altar. Bring a gift within. Be a lamb before the slaughter. Come around. Get down. Fight for what we’re after. When in doubt? Give in. Get down. Give in.
The ground is so familiar still, it pushes back against my shoes. Words fall flat. They had a use, but do not now. With everyone I used to stand by flickering in candle light, their faces take on new expressions in the dancing flame, their names take on new definitions: both refined and obscured and they seem equally sick and cured. Time calls us out.
But when in doubt? Give in. Rally ‘round the altar. Bring a gift within. Be a lamb before the slaughter. Come around. Get down. Fight for what we’re after. When in doubt? Give in. Get down. Give in.
We’re just a burning flash of light, but if you will it, you can still it like a photograph, or like a phonograph with sound. See the play? You’re starring in it. You were cast from giant crowds of extras dying just to play you. Seize the role and wear it down.
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