Nobody knows everything, we know this to be true. Everything is difficult except what’s in front of you. But it’s complicated even under your nose. Bullshit math equations and your highs and your lows. And your manic depression, it comes and it goes. Your parasympathetic nervous system reacts and you’re in fight-or-flight mode.
How’s the world so small when the world is so large? And what made the world, could I please speak to who’s in charge? Everything is real but it’s also just as fake. From your daughter’s birthday party to your grandmother’s wake. And your bi-polar illness, it comes and it goes. You parasympathetic nervous system reacts and you’re in fight or flight, you’re in fight or flight, you’re in fight or flight mode.
I’ve tried to know which words to sing so many times. And I’ve tried to know which chords to play, and I’ve tried to make it rhyme. And I’ve tried to find the key that all good songs are in, and I’ve tried to find the notes to make that great resounding din.
But there’s a bad man in everyone, no matter who we are. There’s a rapist and a Nazi living in our tiny hearts. Child pornographers and cannibals, and politicians too. There’s someone in your head waiting to fucking strangle you.
So here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson. People love you more- oh nevermind, oh nevermind. In fucking fact, Mrs. Robinson, the world won’t care whether you live or die, live or die. In fucking fact, Mrs. Robinson, they probably hate to see your stupid face, your stupid face. So here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson, you live in an unforgiving place.
Andrew Jackson Jihad
