This may come as a shock to some of my friends
But I’m not good at making the tough decisions.
Like I’m a woman whipsawed by two handsome suitors, you’ll tell me “Listen to your heart.”
But like a racetrack run by crooked men, it was all rigged from the start.
So I pump promises through a nozzle ‘til I’ve dried up all my reserves
With perfunctory nods of the head and suppression of the nerves.
So if the fruit of the Spirit only grows in the Holy Land
Then why can I buy the very same from the vender at the roadside stand?

And I still have no idea which way my seed will die out.
Eaten up by the birds, choked by the thorns
Did it ever really sprout?
Oh well.

I used to dance around the house to “Yellow Submarine”
Now I scream at the piano when no one’s listening.
I used to know there was someone who could hear my thoughts
Now I believe that’s all anyone really wants.
So was desire the father of that train of thought?
And am I the bastard son, born of society’s taunts?
You’ll blame it on pride or university
But just know the fault rests solely on me.
I’ve never led a single soul to the Lord Jesus Christ
But I’ve been run off the road plenty of times.
I want to drop everything and drive to you
I’ll take the interstate—no the back roads—no the downtown avenues.
And I’m sick of all the light and dark metaphors
The clean and the dirty, the dead and alive, the rich and the poor.
But for old time’s sake, I’ll indulge in one more:
Heal these festering sores.
And it will only be a few months now ‘til I disappoint
Everyone who’s ever known me since I was a boy.
“See, I thought you were a good kid, well I guess I was wrong.
Your train derailed and I hope you don’t mean a word of this song.”

But think of all the parties when I return
And think of all the lessons you’ll think I’ll have learned.
But I swear I won’t be prodigal or profligate
No, I’ll earn and save and I’ll live the same with the trust of one less friend.