WHICH WAY? [Intro – vinyl crackle, low guitar-bass ostinato] “Lost?” I turned around. Nobody. [small laugh, somewhere else] “That's not a no.” [Verse 1] A voice in the branches. Then two eyes. Then teeth. Then a smile with nothing underneath. I said, “Would you please tell me which way I ought to go?” The smile widened. “That depends.” “On what?” “Where you're going.” “I don't know.” “Then— either way.” [Chorus – restrained doubled vocal] Either way. Either way. If you don't know where you're going, either way. Call it lost. Call it found. You're still standing on the ground. Either way. [Verse 2] The tail came last. The rest took its time. He sat on a branch like the ground was something he invented. I said, “Everyone here is mad.” “No.” He cleaned one paw. “Everyone here is here.” I waited. He looked at me. “You see how easy it is to confuse the two?” [Chorus – slightly wider] Either way. Either way. If you don't know where you're going, either way. You can name the road after you've walked it. Count the steps when you are through. Being lost is still a way of being somewhere. Either way. [Instrumental – metallic percussion, voice fragments moving in stereo] Here. There. Here— [voice disappears] ... “There.” [Verse 3] “Are you mad?” He smiled. “Compared to whom?” “The Hatter?” “Certainly.” “The Hare?” “Obviously.” “Me?” [long pause] His ears disappeared. Then his paws. Then everything except the grin. “You're asking a cat who isn't here.” [small laugh] “You tell me.” [Bridge – drums disappear] I said, “I just want something to make sense.” For the first time he didn't answer quickly. The grin became smaller. Almost kind. “Things make sense all the time. That's the trouble. They make one kind of sense to you and another to everything else.” The branch was empty. His voice wasn't. “You keep asking Wonderland to explain itself in your language.” [Silence] “What if it can't?” [Verse 4 – ostinato subtly distorting] I stopped asking where the road went. For a while, I just walked. Trees became doors. Doors became trees. A path disappeared because I looked directly at it. Somewhere behind me— a laugh. Somewhere ahead— the same laugh. I didn't turn around. “Better,” he said. [Final Chorus – layered, voices slowly separating across stereo] Either way. Either way. If you don't know where you're going, either way. You can name the road after you've walked it. You can count the steps when you are through. Being lost is still a way of being somewhere— and somewhere might be enough for you. Either way. Either way. Not every question needs a place to stay. If you don't know where you're going— [voice disappears word by word] you can't take the wrong— [Silence] [Outro – vinyl crackle, ostinato continues] I walked another mile before I noticed. The grin was beside me. “Lost?” I kept walking. “No.” [small laugh] “That's not a yes.”
