We was out in the sticks down Highway Six And the crowd was just about right. The speed was too, so out I flew Like a stick of rollin’ dynamite.
“Course we kept it a secret from everybody ’cause, if our folks had found out, we’d all been off to military school, but then my buddy went and printed up flyers and distributed them at school sayin’ to come and see the ‘master of sparks‘ that night on jack-rabbit road which was Highway Six, our launch pad.”
“As a rough average, during pre-pandemic life, 5 to 7 percent of people met the criteria for a diagnosis of depression. Now, depending how you define the condition, orders of magnitude more people do. Robert Klitzman, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, extrapolates from a recent Lancet study in China to estimate that about 50 percent of the U.S. population is experiencing depressive symptoms. ‘We are witnessing the mental-health implications of massive disease and death,’ he says. This has the effect of altering the social norm by which depression and other conditions are defined. Essentially, this throws off the whole definitional rubric.”
Remember the words of all the prophets, wise men, fools, the weary and blind Remember the innocence of days gone by, the cruelest joke, now plagued by time It’s getting dark, it’s getting cold, it’s getting late and the pages keep on turning So hit bombs and light it up, enjoy the ride, for the fires, they will be burning
“The second day I was sick, I woke up to what felt like hot tar buried deep in my chest. I could not get a deep breath unless I was on all fours. I’m healthy. I’m a runner. I’m 33 years old.”
“I want Americans to understand that this virus is making otherwise young, healthy people very, very sick. I want them to know, this is no flu.”
Oh, a storm is threat’ning My very life today If I don’t get some shelter Oh yeah, I’m gonna fade away War, children, it’s just a shot away It’s just a shot away War, children, it’s just a shot away It’s just a shot away
“And yet, accusing a cable news host of murder is not the most insane thing that happened in Trump world over the last 24 hours. That would be his meltdown yesterday at a press conference, in which he abruptly walked off after a couple of “nasty” reporters (women, obviously) asked him harder questions than he wished to answer.”
Mmmm, let’s get rid of that old man, hey-ey-ey, And bring our government up to date. It may seem very hard to do, Just open your mind, let love come through.
“Every day, I ask him to tell me about something he knows that I don’t. What is that bird calling in the hedge? How does a meadowlark learn to sing? How does soap kill a virus? Where does courage come from? The only question he hasn’t been able to answer is: How will I live without you?”
I feel like something ain’t right And maybe it’s only me I’m sure that later you’ll find That everyone else can see That I am on my way But I ain’t gonna stay
“The real question is less philosophical (Are you willing to ‘cost your constituents their lives’?) than practical (What is your tolerance for some uncertain number of additional deaths against some certain benefits of resuming regular life?).”
Goodbye, crazy city Goodbye, ugly pride. Shadowy companion Goodbye, crazy city We sure had a run. I really thought i’d made it In the days when i was dumb. I thought you were my cradle; You held me in your hands, Squeezed out every penny, Then you cut me loose and ran.
“So given that I know what’s wrong with me, I’m going to try to let myself cry and sleep without judgment. I might also indulge in some extra food and drink because maybe you can’t reason with your body, but you sure can drug that bitch. I’m not going to watch John Krasinski’s feel-good-happy-times because those don’t work for me, but I’m not going to begrudge others for doing so (although I do still side-eye the Jack Ryan show). Our new normal is that everything is abnormal, and my new okay is that I’m not okay. I’m not okay, and I’m fine with that.”
Smile when we need it Crying in the corner Out of sight out of mind Feel like a devil In the midst of angels Baby, no one’s doing fine
These are children riding naked on their tourist pals While the hollows that pass for eyes swell from withdrawal As he lies on a mattress in a rat infested room Talking ’bout his family and the cold back home