Walking home from work
Stop at the supermarket, the condiment aisle
A jar of pickles catches the eye
Made eye contact with a solitary pickle
Bought the jar took it home

Then made it up the stairs
Then made it through the doorway, and waded through the floor
Tried to head in the general direction of the bathroom
The truest room in the whole damn house

Singing love is the answer to a question
That I have forgotten
And I know I've been asked
So the answer has got to be love, yeah

So Feeding time with TV
Then sleeping time, not sleepy
So reading time with pickle
But where the bed side lamp had been
Is no illuminating soft, soft green

Has it always been this way?
Is it possible that all this magic went unnoticed?
Maybe now those things will start to change
And life will turn a better page
No more rage

Singing love is the answer
To a question that I have forgotten
But I know I've been asked
And the answer has got to be love, love

Tomorrow back to work again
Run to the supermarket, running hopeful through the aisles
Haven't been this happy in a long time
But not a single jar was smiling after all

But pickle jars are just pickle jars
And pickles are just pickles
Ingredients: water, salt, cucumbers, garlic and pickling spices

But love is the answer to a question
That I have forgotten
And I know I've been asked
And the answer has got to be love
Love is the answer
To a question that I have forgotten
And I know I've been asked
And the answer has got to be love
And the answer has got to be love
And the answer has got to be love
And the answer has got to be love