Superstition

[crimsonplum]

How was I to know
which ones were lies? which were real?
Old enough to walk, and they start telling you
knock on wood
throw salt over your shoulder
careful with your mirrors, that's seven years bad

But the first cat I ever loved was black
and umbrellas don't dry when you close them
and if you sneezed, God would bless you, or he wouldn't

So how was I to know
that her back was weak? that she would break so easily?
Young enough to bounce back, they told me
knock on wood
fingers crossed
wish on a star, and she'd be blessed

but she wasn't

A crack is just a crack
and they don't really do anything when you step on them
except maybe trip you up, or keep you going

So how was I to know
if it was true? if it was really my fault?
Old enough to know better, young enough to not be sure
Thirteen is the cruelest number:
how many summers in my life
how many days the machines were beeping

There was a mirror broken
and it doesn't show the way things are anymore
it shows the way things are going to be

There was no way to know
how it would end; how it would change
Young enough to bounce back, old enough to be
thirteen times five
The bells sang her Home
And left me here to patch the cracks she opened

A crack is just a crack
I have no reason to step over them anymore
It's just the way it's going to be