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MATADOR
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The Narcissist Cookbook
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*wind chimes* I remember asking him Over one of the few joints we shared And quite soon before his death, actually How he'd dealt with his dad dying When he'd been 17 And he said Nothing, for a long time And then he said "Dunno. Just did Parents die, Matt. That's what they do, that's what they've always done." I don't know. I guess I expected More In fact, I could see that there was more But he wasn't up for sharing *sigh* I think he was like me In a lot of ways When something big and scary charges straight at you You do not face it down You sidestep it Like a matador Let it tumble hoof over horns into the deep maze-like vault that extends like tendrils of ant hills for hundreds of miles beneath the surface You trap the monsters behind that thick, iron door, and you slam it closed That's How I am That's who I am, by default I learned it from him, I suppose The Narcissist Cookbook is an attempt to counterbalance that impulse It's a reminder not to lock the scary things away Whether they're bulls or ghosts or dragons We don't run From these things here We don't dance around them Ideally we don't even fight them We just see them Look directly at them Try to understand them I've been digging through the sand Filling my bucket up with things that might be gold And the skin on both my hands is rubbing raw And the numbness is the only thing between me and the cold But I ain't going home until I find something worthy of you Washed up on the shore from somewhere out among the blue I ain't lonely I've got the beachcomber blues I've got the beachcomber blues Sometimes I swear I can hear the bull Confused, and frightened Raking its hooves in the dark I need to go down there eventually, I know I do This song's almost finished Yeah, I've been digging through the sand Keeping my eyes out for a shine among the stone (Just one more go-round) The clouds are turning black And I don't need to be a sailor (I think) To know how hard the west wind blows But I ain't going home till I find something perfect for you (Just one more) Worthy isn't good enough, only the best will do I ain't lonely I've got the beachcomber blues I've got the beachcomber blues I've got the beachcomber blues *wind chimes, waves crashing*
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