there's an old man on a city bus
|
holding a candy cane
|
and it is'nt even christmas
|
he see's a note in the obituary
|
that his last friend has died
|
there's an inflant clinging
|
to his overweight mother in the cold
|
as the spends her last dollar
|
on a bottle of vodka for tonight
|
and i guess it struck a nerve
|
like i had to squint my eyes
|
you can never get out
|
of the line of sight
|
like a barren winter day
|
or a patch of unburned green
|
like a tragic real dream
|
i guess it struck a nerve
|
every day i wander
|
in negative disposition
|
as i'm bombarded by superlatives
|
realizing very well that i am not alone
|
introverted
|
i look to tomorrow for salvation
|
but i'm thinking altruistcally
|
and a wave of overwhelming doubt
|
turns me to stone
|
and i guess it struck a nerve
|
sent a murmur to my heart
|
we just haven't got time
|
to crack the maze
|
like a magic speeding clock
|
or a cancer in our cells
|
a collision in the dark
|
i guess it strunk a nerve
|
i try to close my eyes
|
but i cannot ignore the stimuli
|
if theres a purpose for us all
|
it remains a secret to me
|
don't ask me to justify my life
|
|
-----------------
|
Struck A Nerve
|
| Bad Religion |
