Butterflies attack, I’m on an unfriendly stage
Marionette reaction, they’re all the rage
Visceral feelings outside my little lot
Telling me what I am and what I am not
Don’t go (tell me again)
Don’t know (if and when)
Don’t go (are we still friends?)
Don’t show (the meaning then)
Don’t go, Don’t go…
Butterflies are back, now inside my aching head
Rewind replay all the things we should’ve said
Tiptoe through structure of little or no support
The puppet strings are a balance to port
Think slowly, catch my breath…
Am I so lowly, so close to death?
No, I don’t think so. But, you’re the one who says it’s so
I’ll get up again, I’ll stand up again, You’ll bring it up again
And you who knows so much can strike the deepest the deepest the deepest conversation
Or at least you can just strike deep and demand demand demand demand
You’re just a stones throw away…just a stones throw away
just a stones throw away…so throw away
Another glass house.
Another glass house.
Another glass house.
Just one more house…
in houses of religious and political debate, we oftentimes argue less with fact than with emotion...if we could focus the passion to find the kernal of truth rather than win the argument, that might be a good thing..maybe not
i had intended to leave this an instrumental, but wanted to try a slightly different vocal approach, so we experimented in this song with a soliloquy for the transition...i would call this a "b side" tune because it sat in a stack of "whatshouldwedowiththisone" (although i'm sure most of my songs might be considered in this category)
i left this song with the lead in "click" still attached for grins...when doing the song in the studio, you "play" to that click throughout and paintbrush the other instruments in layers...
the guitar out is the "frenetic" part, the electrical synapses of ordered thought trying to recapture themselves in social finger movements...