If this turns out to be another trick
I'll have to rea**ign what I let stick
It's not so bad, it's just a nervous tick
What I make well would make you sick
You always found a reason not to find out all the little things
I never really questioned why
When standing back bit back at me, I realized that all it brings
Is shorter points and longer lines
It's not so hard to rock back and forth
When what you saw as south was really north
I can see your point, but my mind can't sort
How it could cost so much to sell me short
When the word comes through from some omniscient source
That the world's a mess and we've all run our course
Well you can work yourself or you can work your horse
Until you've worked enough to never feel remorse