I’ve been trying, trying to live up, trying to fit in, trying to not give up without giving in. You say I made my bed and now I have to lay alone here every day.
You said to pull my boots up by the strap. I never owned those boots. They never crossed my path. I’m pulling on my shoes. They’re worn and tired and cracked. They’ll carry me on to some safe and softer ground.
You see me as going nowhere fast. You think my destination’s in a sad half empty glass. I’ll move on without you but before I take my leave, I might solve the mystery of who you wanted me to be.
What is your one condition of love? What’s the imperfection I should have rose above? Must I have believed in the things you hold as truth? Should I look just like you? Would a mirror image do?
I hope you’re happy, on some Sunday morning high. I hope you’re happy as you watch me wave goodbye.
(Instrumental break)
Should I have never gotten lost? Did it make you feel betrayed? Should I never have known darkness when the light was just miles away? If I would have complied- bowed down and obeyed- would your arms be open wide?
Tell me your one, one condition of love. What’s the imperfection I should have rose above? Must I have believed in the things you hold as truth? Should I look just like you?
I hope you’re Happy. I hope you’re happy.