| I’m holding here a book
|
| Notable, but not the greatest
|
| Stolen for me by the latest
|
| In a long line of thieves
|
| And I’m just about to drop it
|
| Down that manhole of memories
|
| When I realize it doesn’t bother me
|
| Like love’s mementos usually do
|
| And I look up to see who’s different here
|
| The latest me or the latest you
|
| Course, you’re the kind of guy who doesn’t lie
|
| He just doctors everything
|
| Chooses some unassuming finger
|
| And quietly moves his wedding ring
|
| Who rewrites his autobiography
|
| For any pretty girl who’ll sing
|
| But you can’t fool the queen, baby
|
| Cuz I married the king
|
| And maybe it was I who betrayed his majesty
|
| With no opposite reality
|
| Like a puddle with no reflection
|
| Of the sky or the trees
|
| But after my dreaded beheading
|
| I tied that sucker back on with a string
|
| And I guess I’m pretty different now
|
| Considering
|
| I kissed you on the street that night
|
| On the far side of four
|
| But I didn’t like the taste
|
| In my mouth or yours
|
| And ignoring the persona you wore for my benefit
|
| For once I had the balls to call it
|
| Just call it
|
| But a lesson must be lived
|
| In order to be learned
|
| And the clarity to see and stop this now
|
| That is what I’ve earned
|
| And maybe it was I who betrayed his majesty
|
| With no opposite reality
|
| Like a puddle with no reflection
|
| Of the sky or the trees
|
| But after my dreaded beheading
|
| I tied that sucker back on with a string
|
| And I guess I’m pretty different now
|
| Considering
|
| I’m holding here a book
|
| Notable, but not the greatest
|
| Stolen for me by the latest
|
| In a long line of thieves
|
| And I’m just about to drop it
|
| Down that manhole of memories
|
| When I realize it doesn’t bother me
|
| And heartache not so dire
|
| Cuz I looked up to see integrity
|
| Finally won over desire |