They tell me love is where it fallsnBut just as randomly it falls to piecesnIt doesn't really go awaynJust gets a bit less every daynIt feels entropic as the heat increasesnnI pick out the urchin's spinesnYou get back up on your many crossesnI think that April's cruel but fairnSomething destructive in the airnAfter summer we can count the lossesnnIt's bittersweet (without the sweet)nHoney from the rock (without the honey)nWas never absolutely cleannNever really love's young dream:nA pair of fairly fucked up bunniesnnI could have come to you tonightnHold your hands and feel the world unravelnSo tired of everything we knownSee how the cliches flock like crowsnPretty soon we're back to flint and gravel:nBack to wrangling in the barnRaking through some existential drivelnIt was grudgingly sublime or possibly a waste of timenWe sit back and watch the roses shrivelnnIt's bittersweet (without the sweet)nHoney from the rock (without the honey)nAn unedifying scenenBoth ridiculous and meannSeems the pessimists were on the moneynnThere's not a lot to do tonightnI will not say that we have learned some lessonsnWas just a bloody mess thatnI will not attempt to dignifynConsistent with our first impressions...nnJust bittersweet without the sweetnBittersweet without the sweetnJust bittersweet without the sweet