it's not funny when a skunk dies on your road. at night. in the summer. with the windows open.

But in the morning on the sober dawn of Sunday you're not sure what you have done Who told you love was fleeting? Sometimes men can be so misleading to take what they need from you Whatever you need to make you feel like you've been the one behind the wheel the sunrise is just over that hill the worst is over Whatever I said to make you think that love's the religion of the weak this morning we love like weaklings the worst is over.