Digital Tradition Mirror

If (Dueling Paranoias)

If (Dueling Paranoias)
(Lou and Peter Berryman)

I have called to reassure you I will be there in the morning
Barring unforeseen disaster on the way.

Let me reassure you too I'll be here waiting all tomorrow
Pending fate's unknown vicissitudes today.

If the rust upon the muffler doesn't eat away a strap
And send a spray of rusty metal everywhere,
Ricocheting off the pavement and into the tank of gasoline
Exploding like a rocket I'll be there

If the broken window latches aren't spotted by a criminal
Who barges in to steal the chandelier
And in passing sees me sleeping and decides he needs a victim
Whereupon he hauls me elsewhere I'll be here

If I don't decide to stroll the scenic overlook and slip
Upon an apple core and tumble thru the air
And upon the rocks below be dashed to pieces in a godforsaken
Second like a pumpkin I'll be there

If there aren't any termites excavating the foundation
That has served as their nutrition for a year
Leaving nothing but a powder that allows the floor to crumble
All around me like a cracker I'll be here

If an overeager trooper doesn't pull the Chevy over
And inspect it from the engine to the spare
And detect some marijuana that the guy who owned the car before
Apparently neglected I'll be there

If the ancient water heater doesn't take off like a missile
And go flying thru the roof and disappear
While leaving gas escaping madly which ignites and burns the termite
Weakened superstructure prob'ly I'll be here

Unless a nuclear facility cracks
Unless a saucer of Venusians attacks
We'll be together by a reasonable hour
And have a glass of milk unless the milk goes sour

If a passing trucker doesn't flip a cigarette that flies
Into my window setting fire to my hair
Causing me to stop the car and jump into a nearby lake
That's full of water snakes that eat me I'll be there

If the cyclone doesn't blow the rotten maple all to bits
And send a branch in thru the basement like a spear
Where I'm pinned down like a butterfly as water from the broken pipe
Comes inching up my mumu I'll be here...

Copyright 1993 L&P Berryman.
Words by Peter, Music by Lou.

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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