You heard she played the country club tonight
the one that still won't let you in.
Guess your knocks just haven't been hard enough.

'She's just like you and me' gush the magazines
but she's never wanted anything she couldn't have.

(You're still getting used to having things,
period.)

Doesn't matter what her reputation says;
those are - will always be
her people

'cause people isn't something you get to choose.

People is who made you, and who you'll die trying to escape.
People is who you'll run away from
tossing over your shoulder an incendiary

'I'm not like you.'

You've fought it, you'll keep fighting, but it's starting to become clear:
you can't hide from something that's part of you.
You always end up back with your people in the end

one way or another

and Deacon
troubled Deacon, who wants everything he cannot have
lonely Deacon, still raging against his inability to fit into her charmed shining life -
he is hers - but he is your people.

He thinks you deserve somebody you can count on,
but you're not used to getting what you deserve
and you haven't counted on anybody since you were nine.
You just need somebody who understands

and with the way he says 'you doing anything right now?'
it sounds like he does, too

so when he knocks on your door
with a smile that looks just as weary as you feel
(it's the first time he doesn't seem confused to find himself with you again)

the part of you that's been running slows down, just a tad

you smile back
and you ask 'want some macaroni?'


Title from "Disarm" by the Smashing Pumpkins.