It's been four weeks since the treatment,
And my mind is still a mess.
And what's left to be remembered,
Well, it's anybody's guess.
'Cause my past is like the weather—
It will come and it will go.
I don't know, even know,
What it is that I don't know.
I'm some Christopher Columbus
Sailing out into my mind...
With no map of where I'm going,
Or of what I've left behind.
I don't know
The things I don't know.
I'm sure something's missing—
I wish it would show.
I don't know...
You say take it slow,
And I do, although,
How I do
I don't know.
Doctor Madden:
Are you talking with your husband?
Well, he hasn't much to say.
Doctor Madden:
Is it helping you remember?
I remember that's his way.
Doctor Madden:
Does the puzzle come together
Piece by piece and row by row?
I don't know.
I don' know
Where the fucking pieces go.
'Cause I don't know how it started,
So I won't know when it's done.
Doctor Madden:
Have you talked to your depression,
Your delusions, and your son?