Sometimes When The Going Gets Tough The Tough Don't Get Going They Just Fly, Fly, Fly Like Bullets Of Spit Through The Shit Barreling Straight Into It And Sometimes The Tough Sit And Stare At Smoke Through The Air 'Cuz It's Better Than Drowning In The Eyes Of Despair And Maybe We're All Of Us Damsels In Distress Though We Really Are Strong And We Knew It All Along But We Just Tried To Hide It Inside And If You Held My Hand We'd Dance And Sing This Tuneless Thing And Call It The Ode To What We Don't Understand.