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Rush hour |
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And the day's dawning |
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The rain came |
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And pushed me under the awning |
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The puddles grew and threw themselves at me |
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With every passing car |
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I'm shielding my guitar |
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And there were some things that I |
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Did not tell him |
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There were certain things |
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He did not need to know |
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And there were some days |
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When I did not love him |
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He didn't understand me |
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And I don't know why |
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I didn't go |
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He said change the channel |
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I've got problems of my own |
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I'm so sick of hearing about drugs and AIDS |
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And people without homes |
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And I said, well, |
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I'd like to sympathize with that |
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But if you don't understand |
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Then how can you act |
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I expected summer to be there in the morning |
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I woke to the alarm |
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But she was out of arms reach |
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Sneaking out |
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On silent thighs |
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That were spent and sore |
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From the hot nights that came before |
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He said I looked for you |
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I don't know why |
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I said I was wearing black so you could |
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See me against the sky |
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Take your big leather boots |
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And your buckles and your chains |
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Put them on a downtown train |
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I expected he would be there in the morning |
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I awoke to the alarm |
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He was still in arm's reach |
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But his body was just a disguise |
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His mind had wandered off long ago |
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You see in his eyes |
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Love isn't over when the sheets are stained |
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In my head there remains |
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So much left to be said |
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Make me laugh, make me cry, enrage me |
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But just don't try to disengage me |
