I’ve been putting this off for too long,
trying to avoid writing this song
Cos truth can be uncomfortable
and looking back, I know I did wrong

I met her in a drunken pit
When she was sad, I noticed it
But just like me she learned a way
to feel upset but cover it

Covering up might work for a while
but then you’ll get stuck
I know, cos it happened to me
My magic wand ran out of luck

I’ve never kept a diary
With a memory like mine, there’s no need
Cos everything gets stored away
Even unwanted memories

But she was not set up that way
Her conscious mind would push away
the stuff with which she could not cope
Self-consciously though she went astray

Covering up might work for a while
but then you’ll get stuck
I know, cos it happened to me
My magic wand ran out of luck

In rapid eye movement:
closet doors slide open,
trains get stuck in stations,
suitcases get heavy

So this is not biography,
just my subjective history
of something that I won’t spell out
involving errors made by me

In the end it all came back
repressed thoughts that were painted black
She loved me and I loved her too
but the baggage caused my heart to crack

Covering up might work for a while
but then you’ll get stuck
I know, cos it happened to me
My magic wand ran out of luck