The Final Cut

Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyesI can barely define the shape of this moment in timeAnd far from flying high in clear blue skiesI'm spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide.

If you negotiate the minefield in the driveAnd beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyesAnd if you make it past the shotgun in the hall,Dial the combination, open the priestholeAnd if I'm in I'll tell you what's behind the wall.

There's a kid who had a big hallucinationMaking love to girls in magazines.He wonders if you're sleeping with your new found faith.Could anybody love himOr is it just a crazy dream?

And if I show you my dark sideWill you still hold me tonight?And if I open my heart to youAnd show you my weak sideWhat would you do?Would you sell your story to Rolling Stone?Would you take the children awayAnd leave me alone?And smile in reassuranceAs you whisper down the phone?Would you send me packing?Or would you take me home?

Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings,Thought I oughta tear the curtain down.I held the blade in trembling handsPrepared to make it but just then the phone rangI never had the nerve to make the final cut.

"Hello? Listen, I think I've got it. Okay, listen its a HaHa!"