Coming back from the country, full of good food and lousy beer —
This winter’s so dry, the dirt road’s so dusty —
But at the lightest fall of rain, the bacteria bloom.
You don’t have to be alone to be lonesome —
It’s so easy to forget.
Then sadness comes crashing like a brick through the window,
And it’s Christmas, and no one can fix it.
Or you’re tethered to a table with the happy holiday crowd —
It’s anchors aweigh, and it looks like smooth sailing —
But the merest hint of waves can capsize you.
The desire for annihilation
Is as common as it is unkind.
It’s hard to recognize the situation
When you’re desperately trying to have a good time.