That’s a strange thing to do, that
To truly give a damn
To look with worry
And stop your hurry
To try to understand

That’s a hard thing to do, that
To go through life unscathed
To stand apart
And play your part
To live the masquerade

That’s a sad thing to do, that
To have to play the part
Where men collapse
Beneath their wraps
And show their broken hearts

That’s a cold thing to do, that
To know that he was lone
And bring him high
And force him nigh
To sadness’ twisted drone

That’s a black thing to do, that
To tell her she is naught
Stand as her friend
And once she’s penned
Say she should better rot

That’s an odd thing you have, that
That bitter broken stone
It shines in ticks
Of humbled bliss
But somehow finds its home
In your heart