The Only Thing That Works is Condensation

A repair manual for a broken heart. 

I wrote this song after my refrigerator broke. I called a serviceman, explained the situation, and even sent him a picture of my frozen defrost heater. He knew exactly what was wrong, but he insisted on visiting. I agreed. When he arrived, he showed me how refrigerators break down and explained that this one was only working at 10% capacity. Then, he charged me $130 to tell me that he couldn't fix it and that I had to buy a new fridge. I realized this experience became a blueprint for the song—a metaphor for the therapy industry, false solutions, and emotional repair. The lyrics detail the breakdown: a frozen evaporator coil is a frozen heart, a faulty pump is melancholy, and the only process that still works automatically 'on and off' is condensation... the crying.

Lyrics:

Need someone to fix my frozen

evaporator coil.

It might be a faulty defrost heater, thermostat,  timer, or just dirty engine oil. 

My fans are blocked by dust, the airflow is now clean, but the pump

is not working properly, it's got some heavy heavy spleen.

The only thing that works is condensation.

It goes on and off at regular intervals, like crazy

while other components are out on a vacation.

And everything else is lazy.

The service call produced a man who seemed nice on the phone 

in a polite cozy tone he said all would be fine.

But he needs time to work out what's with my machine

to make it strong, I mean

Unless he's wrong and something is at large. 

Then of course - he would have to charge.

The only thing that works is condensation.

It goes on and off at regular intervals, like crazy

while other components are out on a vacation.

And everything else is lazy.

He showed up, did his chore, his gear spread on the floor

And I can see I shouldn't have asked him in

Because in all his wisdom

He tells me to replace the whole system.

There is something he forgot to say.

I will pay anyway.

Things not always easy but this is my job,

Go and get yourself a new thingybob.

The only thing that works is condensation.

It goes on and off at regular intervals, like crazy

while other components are out on a vacation.

And everything else is lazy.

The only thing that works is condensation.

It goes on and off at regular intervals, like crazy

while other components are out on a vacation.

And everything else is lazy.

Complete Metaphor Decoder for The Song:

The Appliance = The Self / The Body / A Relationship

    Frozen Evaporator Coil: A stagnant, frozen heart or emotional core. The place where warmth (feeling) is supposed to be exchanged is blocked and cold.

    Faulty Defrost Heater: The internal mechanism for self-compassion or healing that has failed. You can't "melt" your own ice.

    Faulty Thermostat: Broken emotional regulation. Can't gauge or control your own "temperature" (mood). Stuck in one setting.

    Faulty Timer: Lost sense of timing or rhythm in life. Can't initiate or end cycles (of grief, work, love) properly.

    Dirty Engine Oil: Contaminated vitality. The essential fluid that reduces friction and keeps things running smoothly (joy, motivation, health) is polluted with resentment, fatigue, or toxicity.

    Fans blocked by dust: Stifled expression or support system. The things that circulate air (communication, social connection) are clogged.

    The Pump (with heavy spleen): The heart, clearly, but specifically one weighed down by melancholy ("spleen" is the old-fashioned term for deep sadness/ennui). It's working, but laboring under a heavy, archaic emotional burden.

The Repairman = False Solutions / External Exploiters

    The Service Call / The Man: The promise of an easy fix—therapy, a new relationship, a self-help guru, medication, any external "expert" hired to solve your internal problems.

    "Polite cozy tone... all would be fine": Superficial, reassuring promises that ignore complexity.

    "He needs time to work out what's with my machine": The drawn-out, expensive process of diagnosis that often leads to a foregone conclusion.

    "Unless he's wrong and something is at large. Then of course - he would have to charge.": The cynical truth—the "fixer" benefits from your continued brokenness. Their incentive is to find more problems to bill for, not to provide a cure.

    "He tells me to replace the whole system": The ultimate dismissal. You are told you yourself are irreparable. You need to be completely scrapped and reborn, which is a terrifying, expensive prospect they can profit from.

    "I will pay anyway": The resigned acceptance of emotional debt. You pay in time, money, and dignity for the lesson that some help isn't helpful.

The "Thingybob" = The Radical, Unspecified New Beginning

This is the masterstroke. "Thingybob" is a placeholder because the character can't even conceptualize what the new system would be.

    It's the new identity, the new life, the new relationship paradigm that seems so foreign and unknowable it doesn't even have a name.

    The line "Things not always easy but this is my job" is the grim acceptance of adulthood: the job is maintaining a failing system, and sometimes the only "solution" offered is an unimaginably costly total overhaul.

Condensation = The Only Authentic Process

It's crying – the involuntary, best form of physical release. It's not a repair; it's a symptom. It's the only thing that still functions automatically, in "regular intervals, like crazy," proving the machine (the self) is still alive and reacting, even if everything else (motivation, joy, hope) is "out on vacation" or "lazy."