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The Bad Parts
Anyone can trade good ideas for damage they think they need,
Ride fences like a steed, where are they going?
Like when a major city kneels down and whispers in your ear.
She could say, 'let's get another beer,' and you'd think, 'Don't
forget the good parts.'
Don't forget the good parts, the way we do.
Anyone can take good ideas for damage they think they need,
Ride fences like a steed, where are they going?
Like you wearing your disappointment guised as nobility.
And I'd offer empathy but its just reprehensible.
Ostensibly no more than a plea for her gaze and a ploy for being
bored and alone.
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Don't forget the good parts.
Don't forget the good parts, the way we do.
Dancing through the bad parts even when they tell me lies.
Wool for both our eyes,
Stumbling between South Street and the moon.
And she'd say, 'What are all the bad parts?'
Well mostly the days that you're not in.
And there's so fucking many.
Don't forget the good parts, the way we do.
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