They call it the best thing
But the real thing that’s so elusive
I’ve lived a life wondering if there is such a thing
Sometimes the search makes me feel reclusive.
Like some bone that’s supposed to be part of everybody,
But it’s an element that is hard to see,
And I’ve come to believe there is no such thing
Because it is something I never seem to see in me.
I’ve seen some radiations about it from the screen
Yeah, some of those flicker-people from my TV
They just exude it – well it seems
Then I see many sheep-people flock
To those self-esteem idols that make the scene.
Now watch those heroes fall in lies
See them shame themselves, their wives,
Their kids, their whole damn lives…
Listen while I tell you that if you
Made your own mother, in interviews, lie
Then you had too much to hide
To have real self-esteem.
Well, that’s what most therapists say,
And I know because of all that’s tied up in it;
Sex, success, purchasing to excess,
Love, control, sharing, admiration staring.
Staring, staring at me? Doctor? Doctor!
Why is it the one pill you don’t have in your repertoire
The one that will impart this personal essence?
I’d think you could find some self-esteem master,
But one who doesn't hoard it like a bastard,
And hook a needle up and refine what you find.
You’d have isolated that single factor
And distributing a single c.c. to everyone you see…
But you haven’t you see …
And for that only two reasons could be;
Either this is a non-such thing we talk about,
Or you, yourself, lack this “self-esteem”
And need to keep ’em coming in your times of doubt
So if the therapist can’t find it
Well then, maybe never mind it
There’s no such thing.
There is just no such thing,
And isn't that funny how this thing
For which some people praise and sing
Isn't real -- but two opposites are?
There’s the devastating lack of --
The other’s too much, too much to show love,
And any others those people push aside and shove.
So excess is false esteem,
And the lack is low esteem
Mr. Therapist says both make you come off mean
Both make it hard for love to come your way
Yet again, low esteem types flock the false kind’s way.
That’s another symptom, the doctor’s say.
So from these debates there’s no escape
And by the time the doctor’s done with his mind rape
See, then, where your self-esteem rates.
That is – were there such a thing.
So, we’re stuck with the lack and the glut
Without a recourse, a neither, nor a “but”,
And would our lives feel so stuck in our customary ruts
Were there really self-esteem?
June 10, 2012