"You wonder what he's thinking when he shivers like that.
What can you tell me?
What could you possibly tell me?
Sure, it's good to feel things.
And if it hurts, we're doing it to ourselves, or so the saying
goes.
But there should be a different music here.
There should be a stand-in, something better,
something more.
There should be just one safe place in the world.
I mean this world, I'm still talking about this world.
People get hurt here.
People fall down and stay down, and I don't
like the way the song goes.
You, the moon.
You, the road.
You, the little flowers by the side of the road.
You keep singing along to that song I hate.
Stop singing.
Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads,
that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass
booth filled with river water.
The heart is monologuing about hesitation and fulfillment,
while behind the red brocade, the heart is drowning.
Can the heart escape?
Does love even care?
Should we stand here or jump in the water?
Sure, he put himself in the box, that he wouldn't
have if we weren't watching.
This stunt, this heroic display of showmanship for the home
team, he puts himself in the box and there's
nothing in the box but him.
Him and maybe hope.
Snow falls on the water as we dump the booth in the bay.
Suppose for a moment we are crowded
around a pier, waiting for something to ripple the water.
We believe in you.
There is no danger.
It is not getting dark, we want to say."