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When she said, "Don't waste your words, they're just lies" |
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I cried she was deaf |
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And she worked on my face until breaking my eyes |
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Then said, "What else you got left? |
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It was then that I got up to leave |
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But she said, "Don't forget |
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Everybody must give something back |
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For something they get" |
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I stood there and hummed |
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I tapped on her drum and asked her how come |
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And she buttoned her boot and straightened her suit |
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Then she said, "Don't get cute" |
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So I forced my hands in my pockets |
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And felt with my thumbs |
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And gallantly handed her |
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My very last piece of gum |
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She threw me outside |
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I stood in the dirt where everyone walked |
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And after finding I'd forgotten my shirt |
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I went back and knocked |
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I waited in the hallway, she went to get it |
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And I tried to make sense |
|
Out of that picture of you in your wheelchair |
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That leaned up against |
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Her Jamaican rum |
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And when she did come, I asked her for some |
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She said, "No, dear", I said, "Your words aren't clear" |
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You'd better spit out your gum |
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She screamed till her face got so red |
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Then she fell on the floor |
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And I covered her up and then |
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Thought I'd go look through her drawer |
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And, when I was through |
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I filled up my shoe and brought it to you |
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And you, you took me in |
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You loved me then |
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You never wasted time |
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And I, I never took much |
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I never asked for your crutch |
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Now don't ask for mine |
