Must Be Nice 2: Defining Moments of a Maniac (sneak preview)

IX. The Pear

While I sit in my lair with a painting of a pair

I sit and stare off into thin air and wonder why live isn’t fair

I wouldn’t dare compare my flare to that of another player

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

I swear I won’t get stressed out and pull out all my hair

These burdens I bear make me aware that people like are rare

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

I’m not square, so don’t give me that glare

It’s not like I’m running for mayor

I’ve got a prayer my soul is spared

I’m not a hero, but don’t say I didn’t care

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

Let me plant my bitter seed, and we can make a better breed

They’ll know not to complain about the rain

The rain is like good therapy

It is food for the pear tree

So we can live a life that is carefree

There is no partridge in this tree

This isn’t for the industry

The fruits of my loom are for my enemies

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pair

There’s something on my mind I would like to share

This is not a facebook status

This could come without practice

Practice, we’re talking about practice, practice

Muscle memory should make this automatic

Why not burn to the core like acid that is muratic

The blood I shed is hydrochloric

There should be a warning for it

There’s passion in my veins, I can’t ignore it

I seek to do something that is historic

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

Sometimes I give myself quite a scare

That’s right sometimes I scare myself, but I’ve learned to prepare myself

There will always be a call when you need my help

So just keep picking at my pears

Soon enough the traps I’ve set will ensnare

Then you will be the one that’s in despair

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

I deal with shades that are fifty times grayer