Flies all green and buzzin' in this dungeon of despair.
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig in the chambers right near there.
He eats the snouts an trotters first!
The loins and the groins are soon dispersed.
His carvin' style is well rehearsed.
He stands and shouts "All men be cursed!"
And disagrees, well no one darest.
I was in a relationship with someone I cared for dearly. When the relationship ended I learned some things. About me, her, love, loss, and life in general. I guess I shouldn't say I "learned" anything because I keep learning those same lessons. I couldn't believe the things I learned about her. I compartmentalized her in my mind. This couldn't be the person I loved. She was gone. All that was left behind was this monster.
It's cliched because it's true: time does soften the pain a wound. Eventually, the monster fades and starts to resemble the woman you loved. Sometimes too much so. Sometimes that's a heavy load to bear too. Sometimes it's easier to just be angry than to deal with confusion.
Sometimes you take things too far. Not that you pushed them to the limit, but that you let yourself become too entwined in it. Between the fond reminiscing, the touching embraces, the sweaty lust, and the plans for the future you loose a part of yourself. Then suddenly you're the asshole when the rules change on you, and you "learn" all those lessons again.
Sometimes someone who has no clue, can say something so out of context and vile that it makes you want to spit bile. Sometimes you want to loose yourself in a bottle or tear through five women in seven months. It's part revenge because you know she hates it, and part escapism because you do too. Just don't pretend you didn't care about them at all because if you didn't you would feel guilty.
Flies all green and buzzin' in this dungeon of despair.In the middle of all this one of the five wants to talk. I try to talk, but she only wants to talk about you subject. I can't talk about what she wants. I have no answers for her. I have no answers for myself. I need to talk, but she doesn't want to talk about my problems. She thinks she does, but she doesn't have any answers for me. If she did then she wouldn't be asking me what she always does. She's afraid of pushing me away so she says so, which of course, pushes me away. That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.
Who are all those prisoners that's shut away down there?
Are they crazy? Are they sainted?
Are they heroes someone painted?
It had never been explained since first it was created.
See a dungeon like a sin
Requires naught but lockin' in
Of any anything that's ever been.
That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.
All men be cursed!