Than the kindness of them
Sometimes you get up in the morning
And you ride the train to work
And nobody’s trying to talk to you
And it’s just lovely
A car full of lonely people
Heading to lonely jobs
And nobody wants to say a word
It’s wonderful
Coming home with a bag of groceries
Wondering what you’re going to make for dinner
Sitting at your kitchen table
By the window
That looks down on the park
Watching people go by
And they’re strangers
And that’s nice
They wouldn’t be as nice if they weren’t
Oh, I used to have friends
Lots of them, actually
But friends want so much from you
And after awhile
You run out of stuff to give them
You stop wanting to throw parties
You stop wanting to go to parties
You stop wanting to hear about parties
And the things people do at parties
You stop doing a lot of things
And you stop being interesting
And interested
And interested
And once that happens
People aren’t very interested in you
Now are they?
I always wanted the kind of life
Where you have nothing to do
And nowhere to go
A lot of people
Would be scared
Of a life like that
But not me
Because I know the trick to it
The trick is to surround yourself
With people you don’t know
That way you can’t be lonely
But you don’t have to worry
About, you know, entertaining people
Being somebody
That other people
Want to be around
That was always such a burden to me
I never knew how I pulled it off
Being a conversationalist
Asking people about themselves
Acting like I wanted to know
The answers to the questions
I felt like I had to ask
When really
There wasn’t anything
I wanted to know
I wanted to know
I wanted to just sit quietly
And watch them
Wherever they were
At school
At my job
On the train going home
Every day
One day I just sat there
Not saying a word
And I couldn’t get over
How lovely it was
From that day on
I just made it a point to—
Check out
As they say
No more phone calls returned
No more invitations accepted
Nothing more to do or say
I just go get my groceries
And come on home
Stare out the window
At all the people
Living lives
I never have to know
Anything about
Every so often
Somebody will knock on my door
And ask about me
And I’ll tell ‘em I’m fine
They think it’s the result of loss
Some heartbreak
Or death in the family
Or something
But I tell ‘em it’s nothing like that
Life can just be too much for some people
Once they hear that
They usually nod their heads
Like I reminded them of something
They were supposed to pick up
On the way home
They’d like to do what I do
But they can’t
Not because they’re unable to
But because it takes a certain amount of…
Well, something
To look at all the things
Being asked of you
And just say—
No more
To say—
I’m done
I’m not pretending
It’s any kind of noble
But it’s necessary
All the same
For me, anyway
I’m just talking about me
Me and what makes me feel
Comfortable
All your life
You look for
The kinds of things
That’ll make you happy
But do you ever look
For what’ll make you
Comfortable?
Happiness is hard
But comfort?
Comfort you can get
In all sorts of places
If you really want it
And if you're willing to say--
Well, I guess happiness
Just isn't in the cards
For me
If you're willing to let go
That’s the trick, you know
That’s the trick
To it all
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