It is nothing to the radio
that you have wept upon it
whenever it played
a certain song,
that this went on for weeks
and the only reason you stopped
is that you were caught weeping
and then sent away to be healed.

It is nothing to the radio
that when you returned
you did not turn it on
for a long time.

The radio is neither
friend nor foe; 
it simply has
no feelings for you.
In this way it resembles
the One who you see
as the cause
of your weeping

and so one night
not long after
your return, 
you reach out and slay your radio
by hurling it against
the impassive wall;
you are then enveloped
in silence and 
while you want to weep
you hold back.  
You can hear a certain song
in the silence, and crying
would drown it.

we all agree
to say
la di da
we all agree
to party and bullshit

then we no longer say
la di da
we choose to
no longer
party and bullshit

swinging that weight
one side to the other
over and over while
the world stays the same
that’s how we roll

the first time it’s spoken
later on it gets sung
nothing changes
nowadays that’s just
how we roll

while agents of change
find it hard to say
la di da
agents of yelling ’bout change
dig the party and bullshit

throw up your hands
when you dance and shout
la di da
throw up in the alley and mourn
the party and bullshit

swinging that weight
one side to the other
over and over while
the world stays the same
that’s how we roll

the first time it’s spoken
later on it gets sung
the world stays the same
either way and that’s
how we roll