|
As she listens very carefully to a room of conversation |
|
She can feel the planet orbiting through space |
|
She hears pieces of arguments, beginnings of jokes |
|
And the odd lines of a song she cannot place |
|
And it all makes up an image that resists interpretation |
|
Which is lately how she likes to see herself |
|
How she does not believe in accidents, doesn't disagree out loud |
|
And falls in love with every man she cannot help |
|
And she thinks "most people don't talk enough about how lucky they are |
|
Most people don't know what it takes for me to get through the day |
|
Most people don't talk enough about the love in their hearts" |
|
But she doesn't know most people feel that same way |
|
If she focuses her energies on just walking through the neighborhood |
|
With depths and shallows nobody could sound |
|
Like January Christmas lights under billion year old stars |
|
She comes up with more of what is lost than what is found |
|
So by the time that she explains to me just a glimpse of what she's understood |
|
She betrays the meaning putting it in words |
|
So she smiles at me lovingly and says, "just let me hold your hand |
|
So far it's the only way I can let myself be heard" |
|
And she thinks "most people don't talk enough about how lucky they are |
|
Most people don't know what it takes for me to get through the day |
|
Most people don't talk enough about the love in their hearts" |
|
But she doesn't know most people feel that same way |
|
And she thinks "most people don't talk enough about how lucky they are |
|
Most people don't know what it takes for me to get through the day |
|
Most people don't talk enough about the love in their hearts" |
|
But she doesn't know most people feel that same way |
|
And she thinks "most people don't talk enough about how lucky they are |
|
Most people don't know what it takes for me to get through the day |
|
Most people don't talk enough about the love in their hearts" |
|
But she doesn't know most people feel that same way |
