Mark Yakich - On Raisins lyrics

They are much misunderstood. Like that old writer's truism: “Write what you know”—well, you don't know very much. So you write about raisins. Faithless little f**-ups, plucked, dried, smashed in a box. That feeling of being in the world, but not of the world. So what if berries fall from the hand as only berries do.