it's not funny when a skunk dies on your road. at night. in the summer. with the windows open.

But in the morning
on the sober dawn of Sunday
you're not sure what you have done
Who told you love was fleeting?
Sometimes men can be so misleading
to take what they need from you
Whatever you need to make you feel
like you've been the one behind the wheel
the sunrise is just over that hill
the worst is over
Whatever I said to make you think
that love's the religion of the weak
this morning we love like weaklings
the worst is over.