You walk across the street
and get run over by a truck
It happens to the best of us
Even those with luck

First there comes the adrenaline rush
Then comes the real hit
You're spattered across the pavement
Thinking, this is it

I'm being metaphorical, so I don't mean it's real
It's just what happens when something bad
finally slips, and you reel

There's tears in awkward places
You discover that at work
No one bothered to design a place for crying
So you're feeling like a dork

There's sleepless nights
Trips on your break
to buy some premium Visine

Time goes on and a new plan emerges
from your psychic mist
And even if you still feel down
You know everyone takes a hit

The thing is to keep going on
take on the role of gracious loser
That's really all that's left
Now you can't be a chooser

Gradually, you become attached
to new goals, hopes and dreams
and looking back
maybe it won't be
as bad as it seemed