Red, Red, Red.

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I don’t understand about complimentary colours and what they say,
Side by side, they both get bright, together, they both get grey.
But he’s been pretty much yellow and I’ve been kind of blue.
But all I can see is red now, what am I gonna do?

I don’t understand about diamonds and why men buy them.
What’s so impressive about a diamond except the mining?
But it’s dangerous work trying to get to you, too,
And I think, if I didn’t have to kil myself doing it,
Maybe I wouldn’t think so much of you.
I’ve been watching all the time and I still can’t find the tack
but what I want to know is, is it okay; is it just fine,
or is it my fault; is it my lack?

I don’t understand about the weather outside,
Or the harmony in a tune or why somebody lied.
But there’s solace, a bit in submitting to the fitfully, cryptically true,
What’s happened has happened, what’s coming is already on its way with a role for me to play,
and I don’t understand;
I’ll never understand, but I’ll try to understand,
There’s nothing else I can do.