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When I was a little girl |
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Like really little - like eight or so |
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I was playing in my father's study |
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A place in the house I wasn't supposed to go |
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My father fancied himself a sailor |
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His study was filled with nautical decor |
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He kept a boat in a bottle on the top of a shelf |
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And it shattered on the ground when I slammed the door |
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I told my mother everything |
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I told her I was so so sorry |
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She told me "don't cry |
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When he comes home tonight |
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We can make everything okay |
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This is all we have to say: |
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We don't remember a boat in a bottle |
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It must have fallen off its shelf alone |
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We know you loved it |
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We're so sad it's broken |
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But neither one of us was even home |
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And it's our word yes, our word, against his" |
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So I hid screwups from my father |
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Made up school awards to please my mom |
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Whatever made the steak taste better |
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Whatever kept the waters calm |
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I was told to keep their secrets |
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And in turn they'd keep mine |
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As I got older, I got dumber |
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I couldn't help but cross the line |
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Three times I nearly wrecked my life |
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Three times I nearly came to ruin |
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Three times went crying |
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To my parents |
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Who said they'd make it go away |
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Yes, this is all we had to say: |
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"we never rented a house in sedona |
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We didn't see camille the day she died |
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We haven't been on our boat in some years now |
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So we don't care what you found inside |
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And it's our word yes, our word |
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It's our word yes, our word against theirs." |
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Somebody was paid to make it go away |
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Everyone was paid to make the problems go away |
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Doesn't matter who gets screwed or who is blamed |
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Or what you need to do to clear your name |
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An inconvenient truth can be easily erased |
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When I was twenty-six |
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I was living in new york |
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I developed some fun habits |
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Put my white blood cells to work |
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I remember it so clearly |
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I was home alone on a tuesday night |
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To level out I popped some downers |
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But couldn't seem to get my mind right |
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I drew a bath, and slipped into it |
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And suddenly became aware |
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I couldn't keep my head above water |
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I took a final gasp of air |
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And as I lay there helplessly |
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A million different thoughts came to me |
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I saw my parents |
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Hearing the news |
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"your only daughter drowned today" |
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I thought about what they might say |
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"our daughter Judith? |
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No she moved to austin |
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She's very happy there |
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Or so we hear |
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She's always been so goddamned independent |
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The years go by and now we barely see her |
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Our daughter Judith? you must be mistaken |
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You mean the girl we raised as if our own? |
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We loved her so much |
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She felt like our child |
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But eventually we had to send her home" |
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It'd be their word |
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Only their word |
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It'd be their word |
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Only their word |
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On its own |