Diagnosis - The Weakerthans

I have a headache, I have a sore back

I have a letter I can’t send

I have desire, it falters and falls down

It calls you up drunk at three or four AM

To wonder when, wonderful

All the cheap tricks I tried too hard not to pull

Pulled along or pulled apart

The diagnosis of a foreign frame of heart

I have a story that I’d like to tell you

It’s littered with settings and second takes

I have a feeling that hums with the street lights

Hides under ice in always frozen lakes

My mistake to make you cringe

Another greeting like a broken creaky hinge

To oil and push or pry apart

The diagnosis of a foreign frame of heart

Found a cure for being sure

And sure as anything

I’ll smile for my reckoning

Oil and push, pry apart

The diagnosis of a foreign frame of heart