Give Up

In the stacks of the public library

I searched for something I was missing

I went to find number 92 in the Dewey Decimal System

That's the secret code for biographies of the famous and the infamous

From Amelia E. to Alexander the G. to Mr. Christopher Columbus

But I was not after tales of pilots, kings or genocidal sailors

Rather the story of a strange American author and one-time whaler

Herman M., that's him, the beardy bard who brought us Moby Dick

I always liked that book of his, and I wanted to learn his trick

Well, I discovered Mr. Melville died a destitute romantic

Despite his tales of maritime adventure

In the Pacific and the Atlantic

He searched his whole lifetime for a whale of his own

And died with no answers, half crazy, and more or less alone

My fiction ambitions took a hit with that bit of information

I mean, everybody has their own symbolic cetacean

But whales are weighty, and some become allegorical albatrosses

So I threw away my harpoon and cut my library card and my losses

I gave up, it was time

I gave up, it's no crime

I said to myself that what I've got is good enough

I gave up, I gave up

One hot August afternoon I was taking calls in my cubicle

Doing my job, dealing with disputes that people found disputable

The ringer rang, I picked it up, I heard a lady on the line

She said, "Meet me in the parking lot downstairs tomorrow at nine"

She hung up before I answered, I sat there staring at the phone

There had been something perplexingly persuasive in her tone

So it was the next morning found me lurking in the lot

She was leaning on a pillar like in a thriller with a predictable plot

Her pantsuit was as black as the feet of an ancient wandering mystic

Her lips looked made of metal, but it was just silver lipstick

Wordlessly she handed me a package wrapped in brown

Her pump shoes clicked as she departed, but they didn't make a sound

Well, you're wondering what was in the package, trust me, I was too

It could have been poison or subversive literature for all I knew

But you could measure my pleasure with the very smallest measuring cup

It was a framed poster of a kitten saying "Never Give Up"

So I gave up, what else could I do?

I gave up, so would you

I mean, who doesn't like kittens? But enough is enough

I gave up, I gave up

So though I know in our culture it basically boils down to blasphemy

I've had it with the power of positive

Thinking and the tyranny of tenacity

I can't live with stick-to-it-iveness, this endless ambition

I'd rather relax and casually chant a mantra I really believe in

I give up all of the time

I give up and I'm doing fine

Because I've got to be going when the going gets tough

I give up, I give up

I give up all of the time

I give up, but I'm doing fine

Because I've got to be going when the going gets tough

I give up, I give up