If this turns out to be another trick I'll have to reassign what I let stick It's not so bad, it's just a nervous tick What I make well would make you sick You always found a reason not to find out all the little things I never really questioned why When standing back bit back at me, I realized that all it brings Is shorter points and longer lines It's not so hard to rock back and forth When what you saw as south was really north I can see your point, but my mind can't sort How it could cost so much to sell me short When the word comes through from some omniscient source That the world's a mess and we've all run our course Well you can work yourself or you can work your horse Until you've worked enough to never feel remorse