Get me out of this suit,
for ****'s sake.
I look like
some flashy bird of paradise,
but I feel like I'm in hell.
Feel like I'm a far cry
away from myself.

She called me her savior
for watching her dog
while she was away.
     Savior? No.
I can't even save myself.
Hell, I even forgot to feed the dog once and now her couch is in ruins.
But if she wants to keep thinking it,
     she can.

In the shopping center
     I feel like an exile.
     As I write this,
sitting on a patio furniture display,
I realize I am the only one
without a cart full of cardboard
and artless plastic.
     A seasoned couple quarrels in the next aisle over which
shower curtain to go home with
as if it really matters at all.
     Children yearn for the colorful things, women the shiny,
men the dangerous.
     I want to tell them that if
they want color, brilliance, and danger,
they should listen to Elvis Presley
or read Tom Robbins.
     Anyway, I buy the lawnchair
I've been sitting on
and walk out the door.

Babe, you know I'd love to go and
meet your mother,
but I've been hearing that she
kicks like a mule.
Maybe I should just go
undercover
so I don't seem like such a fool.

Well, I hopped off the ship
and fell face first
in a pile of ****.
Thought nothing's worse.
Saw a man go by
pullin' a hearse,
then I remembered
this single verse:

Oh, it'll get better now.
Say oh, it'll get better.
Don't let the wind
ruffle those feathers.
Just when it rains,
pray for some good weather
and oh, it'll get better.

When I rose again,
I fell into
a mess of chains
and heavy, too.
I asked the Lord
what can I do.
He told me Child
this one's for you:

Oh, it'll get better now.
Say oh, it'll get better.
Don't let the wind
ruffle those feathers.
Just when it rains,
pray for some good weather
and oh, it'll get better.

I managed to
shake off the weight.
Resolved I could
determine my fate.
Went lookin' for a boat
to take me back,
but the docks were bare and
I had a heart attack.

So I sit right on
the edge of this land
where the anchors drop
and the ships did land,
sing this song
to whoever I can,
stomp my feet
and clap my hands, it goes:

Oh, it'll get better now.
Say oh, it'll get better.
Don't let the wind
ruffle those feathers.
Just when it rains,
pray for some good weather
and oh, it'll get better.

I kept you,
despite my constant worry
that it was wrong of me to do so
(you also kept me,
but you couldn't
possibly know that).
Around and around you'd go,
and my gaze went with you,
felt like I was weightless,
until at once the dream I sunk into
with you rose and evaporated
like a sudden, desperate breath.
I held you then,
tried to keep you warm,
sang you songs,
told you it would be alright.
I was left breathing onto you
as your spirit rose and evaporated
into the room around me,
into the air I breathe.

I lost all my ambition
when I moved here with you.
Now I'm in no condition
to do what I have to do.

My mind's mixed up with worries
on track to coming true.
And now I'm in no hurry
to spend all my life with you.

I used to dream of writing
for some big magazine.
Now I dream of hiding
with a bottle of amphetamines.

Some days you say you love me
and want me in your bed.
Other times you loom above me
and drop your judgment on my head.

If you'll just come out and tell me
what it is you want from me,
then I'll lose the pills I'm taking
and put you in that magazine

And everyone can read about you,
with your name beside "forever."
Otherwise, just say adieu,
and I'll write it, "darling, never."