When Ronnie Went Looking

When Ronnie went looking
He got stuck in a dark spot
Took too much
Took some bad ideas
Wrapped them up in pita bread
And passed out at 4am

Saw his old dog from childhood
Poking its head through a hole
In a wooden fence
Started talking to him
Asking him to beg off it
Needing to get its head back through
But couldn't fit

Just couldn't fit

Saw the bridge from the bottom
Like he was laying on top of a car
Passing under it
On a cool Tuesday night
With no work the next day

Remembered riding to the falls
To pick up some when he was nineteen
And didn't have to worry about nothing
Didn't have to drive
Didn't have to pay
Didn't have to do shit
If he didn't want to do it

And he never did

There's that dog again
But it's the last dog he had
Not the first like the last
And it's dark
The dark spot again
Trapping him eight feet away
From the dog he wants to play with
The only thing that loved him unconditionally

That dog made him feel poetic

He's not sure how he got to swim with dolphins
It can't be a memory can it?
When he was in Miami he stayed at Chad's pad
Relaxing and trying to reconfigure
But he figured out that heading home
Would be cheaper and ultimately less embarrassing
Than having to have someone come down
And rescue him from paradise

When he went looking for jobs
He always ended up washing dishes
Until one day he wound up
In some rich bitch's house
Scrubbing away at plates
That had pictures of dirty food on them

When he asked her why
She'd want plates with dirty food
She said it was for the camp value
And he told her she could camp someone else by the sink
Because if she wanted to look at dirty food
While she was eating
Then why bother cleaning the damn plates in the first place?

He was the employable type

He remembered seeing a woman with a blue veil
Staring at him at someone's funeral
It might even have been his own

He wanted to spit on the ground
But he had no saliva
And he couldn't find the ground
So he just stared at her
Until his eyes hurt

Man, that woman made them hurt

The little boy called himself
Ree-Ro the God of the Apocalypse
But truth be told
He looked like an eight-year-old hood

Ronnie asked if he had any on him
But he got his palm slapped
And nothing else

Blood started pouring up from the ground
And pretty soon Ronnie's boots were soggy
So he took off to Philly
Where he wouldn't have to worry about the lions
And the Ree-Ro
And the bullshit
And the zebras

Ronnie never went looking for nothing
But even when you're not looking
You can't help but find shit

All he really wanted was to be fixed
A fix and a fix, you know?

Hard to understand
Unless you're there