What if all of the things in life you didn’t like or weren’t satisfied with could just be sent back for a full refund? If that were true I wonder what I’d get back from her? I’d wonder what all of the hearts I’d crushed would get back from me? I’d wonder who would be in charge of making sure the postage was paid for all of our happiness and pain? Do you think it could all fit in one of those little USPS trucks or would we need one of those daisy chained 18 Wheelers?
As much as it feels like I loose in situations I know that I’m winning through experience.
Feelings are ours to manufacture and keep they can’t be sent back, RMA’ed, or returned for a store credit. We are individually responsible for our own feelings. Thank the heavens we all have others to lean on with respect to processing feelings especially the ones we want to send back for full refund!
I leave you with a man that is much more capable of painting beautiful pictures with words…
The Great Compromise
John Prine
I knew a girl who was almost a lady
She had a way with all the men in her life
Every inch of her blossomed in beauty
And she was born on the fourth of July
Well she lived in an aluminum house trailer
And she worked in a juke box saloon
And she spent all the money I give her
Just to see the old man in the moon
Chorus:
I used to sleep at the foot of Old Glory
And awake in the dawn’s early light
But much to my surprise
When I opened my eyes
I was a victim of the great compromise
Well we’d go out on Saturday evenings
To the drive-in on Route 41
And it was there that I first suspected
That she was doin’ what she’d already done
She said “Johnny won’t you get me some popcorn”
And she knew I had to walk pretty far
And as soon as I passed through the moonlight
She hopped into a foreign sports car
(Repeat chorus)
Well you know I could have beat up that fellow
But it was her that had hopped into his car
Many times I’d fought to protect her
But this time she was goin’ too far
Now some folks they call me a coward
‘Cause I left her at the drive-in that night
But I’d druther have names thrown at me
Than to fight for a thing that ain’t right
(Repeat chorus)
Now she writes all the fellows love letters
Saying “Greetings, come and see me real soon”
And they go and line up in the barroom
And spend the night in that sick woman’s room
But sometimes I get awful lonesome
And I wish she was my girl instead
But she won’t let me live with her
And she makes me live in my head
(Repeat chorus)