Okkervil River - My Bad Days

Dear Mother, weve all got bad days, and I know youll understand. Where we open up a foreign door with a pair of foreign hands. Where we find ourselves alone at the foot of a pair of foreign stairs. Dear Mother, you know how our bad days can catch us unawares. Dear Mother, weve all got bad days, and I hope that youll agree. With a bottle filled up with Vicodin and a child who looks just like me. And a cellar thats as dark as winters cold (with a hole in the stone of the cold wall). A child like me whos hiding, a child who cant hear your call. Theres a string that runs through our bad days, and if you pull that string real tight, the days all crumple together and all that you see is night. And the doorknob becomes your enemy, and the window you see
through a haze. Dear Mother,
I wish you could stand inside
and see all my bad days. My bad days all got together and
they stood in a row for me,
and I plunged deep into the
row, and I couldnt hear and
I couldnt see. And I came
out after thousands rose and
thousands passed away. Now I
stand all alone at the foot
of the stairs and I wait for more bad