We crashed through crazed glass in the white-hot burst of
the fiery blast. We flared through choked air, in the
deafening blare, in the scattering ash. We said, "Summer's
here and I'm gonna crack crack crack." We sort through
shocked quartz like a jewelry store -- while your sister and
dad consort with kept courtesans, while the whole world
sits in ruins. We laugh, "Summer's here and I'm gonna
crack! Summer's here and I'm near a heart attack or flash
of real feeling, teeth gnashing, and blasting and reeling
through black."
Because, kids, when I first saw your mom, I was right and
she was wrong about just the type of man she was bringing
back. And when I first met her dad, I felt good and he felt
bad. But, kids, you'll find that, over time, you're just
trapped. And Spring is gone and you're gonna gasp. And,
friends, when I saw the groom rise from the
darkness of the tomb, I was unnerved (though, overall, I
was wowed.) And when I saw the bride, the look inside her
eyes just cried, "If someone has some cause to stop, say it
now!" But now Fall is here, and the leaves all come down.
And then Winter's here, and it's too cold to drown. And
I'm nearly whited-out, snowblind, like it's no business of
mine if life doesn't want me around.