I've been delivered

The Wallflowers I've been delivered Breach (2000)

In many ways, this lyrically rich song is an anthem for Jurisdynamics. From the opening lines — nothing's hard as / getting free from places / I've already been — to the closing — I can't fix / something this complex / any more than I can build a rose — I've been delivered expresses some of the core principles of complexity theory.

I could break free from the wood of a coffin if I need But nothing's hard as getting free from places I've already been I've been waste-deep in the burning meadows of my mind In the engine In cold December shooting fire from the hose Now turn off your lights 'cause I'm not coming home 'til I'm delivered for the first time I was first-born to a parade that follows in rows down a narrow cold black river faceless shadows moving slow I would move swift when the sounds of a trumpet would blow I've been the puppet I've been the strings I know the vacant face it brings Now the bells of curfew They may ring before I'm through But soon I'll be delivered for the first time You might keep clean in the back of an angel motorcade It doesn't matter who walks in you know, the joke is still the same You'll just wake up like a disposable lover decomposed I've been gone I've been remembered I've been alive I've been a ghost So now, if downtown explodes I'll still be on this road 'til I'm delivered for the first time

I have drawn blood from the neckline when vampires were in fashion You know I'd even learn to cut my throat If I thought I could fit in 'Cause I, I once heard that you gotta learn how to blend in to this mess Where nothing's hard nothing's precious and nothing's smooth or flawless Now, no more amused just screaming to be delivered for the first time Now I'm ten miles in the deep and mighty blue sea Looking back, towards a long white beach burning up into yellow flames And I just wave back like a little boy up on a pony in a show 'cause I can't fix something this complex any more than I can build a rose So just keep on letting go 'cause I must be close to being delivered for the first time Now I'd rather bleed out a long stream from being lonely and feel blessed Well than drown, laying face down in a puddle of respect I was once lost in the corridors of the arena in blindfolds I've been the bull I've been the whip I just pulled down the matador So now, turn on your lights 'cause I'm coming home I've been delivered for the first time