So It Goes
There is love,
there are lies,
there is lying in love,
there is living a lie
(and loving it too),
there is love like to hate and hate like to love,
there is lying in wait,
with surprise in their eyes when shots ring out.
She hates him and he her,
he loves her and she him,
at times all the same;
it's a jumbling game where the prize is a heart,
or a life,
or a death,
and the sudden exhaling of someone's breath when shots ring out.
And so --
the gun's in her hand and the smoke wafts in curls,
and how it will end who can tell?
I suppose no one knows
who has not been there.
So it goes.
And so --
the gun's in her hand,
the lines are tangled with lies,
soon somebody dies,
and death is a sudden untensing of breath.
And so it goes.
The dark is a friend,
the dark is a foe,
the tears on her cheek no memories recall,
wandering in darkness before dawn starts to fall;
only sound will remain as shots ring out.
He is dead.
There --
it's said.
He lied;
let him lie.
It cannot be recalled.
So it goes.
And so --
the gun's in her hand;
who has suffered the more?
I guess none can know
save those who were there.
So it goes.
And so --
the gun's in her hand,
and when love is a lie,
or a lie is a love,
there is lying in wait,
a doom and a fate that cannot end well.
And so it goes.
We are fools for our loves,
we fall for their lies,
and so --
over blood that is spilled who will cry?
The tears were already shed.
The fate that she chooses she chose long ago
and the fate that he chose was to die.
So it goes.
And so --
the gun's in her hand;
what's passed is still past --
we would love to recall our sad little lies,
and yet there they lie.
No reason can reason the senseless away.
The shots ring out.
And so it goes.
