Something's kicking in our bushes, something with evil fizzle.
You can hear it's close in giggles, its shimmy in the shrubs.
A war may be raging. A market may be crashing.
An earthquake may be brewing; a volcano, erupting.
A planet is stammering. A zoo is on fire.
And somewhere else, a country's exploding.
But here, in fear, we watch something twitching in our bushes.
Trouble's twisting beneath our window, crashing in our backyard.
Too shady to deal with, too close to our core.
We're too spineless to see beyond it, around it, or through it.
We can't beat it if we don't know quite what it is.
We're sure it's not a dog. We're sure it's profoundly ugly.
It seems small and tight. It seems strict and smart.
It keeps us up all night with our timid, lazy hearts.