Now there ws this thing about them that caused me at times to doubt them,
or created conflict in my mind. Usually there was a he one, and there
also was a she one, but somehow they came out differently. And one of
them, when she was she, would smile and burn a hole in me; a hole that was
too hard for me to hide. Once I had a dream bout her, in a filed, alone
outside a tiny little cottage made of sticks. It was much to small to use
it, so she bumped her head and [bad word] it trying to get through the tiny
door. Afterwards, I went to tell her, but it was he I felt who nodded at
[ From: [bad word] /www [bad word] the-thing-about-them-lyrics-residents.html ]
my words indifferently. And of course when this would happen, there was
still a she to tap up on my shoulder fromhe other side. But it wasn't her
who looked then, close perhaps, but like some bookend that [bad word] misshapen from its mate. So I told myself there must be some way I can
make them just be who I want to be with all the time, 'cause it kept me at
a distance, but my sensees kept insisting it was much more interesting
inside.