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Ani DiFranco - Recoil |
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Come home and my guitar |
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Has nothin to say to me |
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I recoil from all my friends |
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And then I'm in misery |
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Been so long since I've been held |
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Really since I was his |
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Probably just need to be held |
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That's probably all it is |
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Course, then I think of my dad |
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Who time travels mostly now |
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Back to when he was free |
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And holding out hope somehow |
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Who sits all day in a line |
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Of wheelchairs against a wall |
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Inventing ways to play out time |
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Like us all |
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Like us all |
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To all the people out there tonight |
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Who are comforting themselves |
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If you should happen to see my light |
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You can stop and ring my bell |
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I'm just sittin here in this sty |
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Strewn with half written songs |
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Taking one breath at a time |
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Nothin much going on |
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Nothin much going on |
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Little flashing zero |
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On my answering machine |
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Rats scratching at my brain |
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Brain shuffling its feet |
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Yes I have my father's heart |
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It may or may not keep on trying |
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Can't really tell you what it is |
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Keeps me this side of that dark line |
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But I'm not there to take care of him |
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And I'm not here to take care of me |
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I'm going outside to watch the house burn down |
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Across the street |
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I'm going outside to watch the house burn down |
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Across the street |
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To all the people out there tonight |
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Who are comforting themselves |
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If you should happen to see my light |
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You can stop and ring my bell |
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I'm just sitting here in this sty |
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Strewn with half written songs |
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Taking one breath at a time |
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Nothin much going on |
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Nothin much going on |
