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