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Better Questions

from The Truth Doesn't Live Here by Trauma Cat

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lyrics

(Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) I could cut the tension with a knife. You’re fighting tooth and nail to (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) master this dimension. You smell blood like a hunter on the trail, so be careful not to take yourself too seriously. You beat your head against the wall. Plead with the gods for some direction. Cry foul when no one hears the call. But you don’t need answers, you need better questions. (What if, in my zeal to find answers—that I settle on answers?) (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) Your portable prison seems to be made from papier-mâché, so (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) have yourself some good fun. Kick the wall, get some fresh air and some dayglow. It’s not so hard to flip the script now, honey. It’s not so hard, but here’s the catch: Ain’t nobody gonna hold your hand or wash your ass. You can stare at the green of your neighbor’s lawn or keep watering the grass. You beat your head against the wall. Plead with the gods for some direction. Cry foul when no one hears the call. But you don’t need answers, you need better questions. You’ll never be satisfied. You’ll never be satisfied. You’ll never be satisfied. You’ll never be satisfied. You’ll never be satisfied. You’ll never be satisf—

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from The Truth Doesn't Live Here, released October 7, 2022

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Trauma Cat Syracuse, New York

America’s sorriest “power” trio

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