So Much About John Lyrics

If he could take a pencil and write out all those wrongs,
I'm still not sure that he would do it. If he could press
record and wipe out all those songs, he'd probably only
make it halfway through it before he got bored and went
to have a rest, and doesn't that say so much about John?
I think he believes that his friends have been blessed by
the mere gift of getting to sing along. Otherwise how
would you account for the way he wastes her time, marking
backwards birthdays on awkward calendars still to be
forgotten? Tuesday to Tuesday she's found waiting with her juice for him to get his things together in a
messenger bag that's laid out, the velcro loose, near
meticulous movements stretched forever. It's no anomaly,
for this sequence soon repeats and she'll be stuck behind
the screen door with a drafty wind on her neck and a
series of defeats, wondering, 'what is it, what is it,
what is it, what is it all for?' It's much akin to some
backyard-growing, long-forgotten vine they're waiting
for his ripe return to life not knowing he's already
rotten.

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