You Had To Be There lyrics

 
Song Details
Artist(s)The Flailing Inhalers
Album(s)You're a Snowflake

A simple young man built a house in the woods,
a foundation of fables and material goods.
heat wasn’t cheap, he insulated it well,
he packed in asbestos as the cold winter fell.

And he talked to himself,
he imagined some friends and some stories to tell,
He sipped on his brandy and played with his things,
and slept in his comfortable bed until spring.

in march the sun finally melted the snow,
the house stood sturdy, but the wind still did blow
his friends remained loyal his sight remained near,
he was reckless and careless and untouched by fear.

the man played oblivious lazy and low,
but the weakness of walls was starting to show.
it took one mighty gust, wind meant only for sails
to splinter the wood and pop out the nails

and he lost what he knew of himself
his fragile self-confidence damaged as well
he sipped on his brandy and salvaged his things
kept warm as he could while he waited for spring

The bulk of the house fell in heaps on the ground,
And the young man saw forest for miles around.
it was the end of the winter, his only good news,
he’d have nine whole months to rebuild as he’d choose

he gathered his hammer purchased new wood,
he tacked it together as best as he could,
the framing was flimsy and the corners unsure
he called for assistance, but nobody heard.

And he fought with himself,
why had they left when he treated them well
he pickled his memories put them away,
and cleared off his table to lay out his blame.

Fueled only by hatred of fair-weather friends,
he roped off the structure and tied up the ends.
winter proved three months too much for the shack
though the walls held together the foundation cracked.

the weather got warmer, he woke up alone,
with no one to help him to fix up his home,
he knitted a blanket and laid in the mud,
and welcomed next winter with brandy for blood.

and he stopped respecting himself
no more a burden to anyone else.
if they didn’t want him, he sure wouldn’t beg,
and he dove down deeper inside his own head

his heart kept on beating while his body froze,
and the frostbite had blackened near all of his toes,
but his point would be proven and someday they’d care,
about a man who lay dying in the still frozen air.

the curse of the birds came as it always did,
he threw off the blanket from which under he hid
with no one and no brandy and nothing to do,
he knocked off the ice cubes and laced up his shoes.

He picked up a shovel and stabbed at the ground,
and poured a foundation of things he had found.
with short inventory, he owned only the land,
his new house would be stable but never as grand.

And he talked to himself,
he imagined some friends and some stories to tell,
He threw out his brandy and broke all his things,
and slept in his comfortable bed until spring.



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