In which our hero, who was born to write songs, tries to figure out his life with help from the interviewer.
Sunday, April 2, 2017
therapy
every week I pay
with the help of insurance
a doctor to watch me cry
I don't need sympathy
or false reassurance
I just want the reasons why
there are holes in my heart
as big as Montana
and they're looking to swallow me whole
I try to stand firm
and be a strong man
ah, man, but I'm losing control
every week I go
with the help of insurance
to a doctor to hear me sob
about how life
is a test of endurance
I sure don't envy his job
'cause I've got pain
as wide as west Texas
and I don't want to hear
about childhood
and the way it affects us
doc, I'm covering my ears
I'm cowering in fear
I'm going to disappear
I'm going to disappear
every week I ride the bus
and with the help of insurance
I see a doctor to keep me alive
I try to keep the faith
but each fierce reoccurrence
makes me doubt if I'll survive
my life is as cold
as the snow in Alaska
but I know someday I'll warm up
I desperately hope
that I'm up to the task
'cause I've had enough
believe me, I've had enough
each week I pay
with the help of insurance
a doctor to watch me cry
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