The autumn leaves drift by my window The autumn leaves all red and gold I see your lips The summer kisses The sunburned hand I used to hold But since
Love, love You make me feel like a sticky pistol... leaning into a stamen You make me feel like a mister sunshine... Himself You make me feel like splendor
I feel Nobody knows When will it snow? Concerts are free Sunday night Come hear the songs by seaside Lawnchairs and popcorn and ice Postcards from east oceanside
darkness When the 4th grade movie played Our fingers touched togethe promising one day...that... Tomorrow I will be yours Tomorrow I will be yours Out on a boat with the bell from
I nearly died I suicided softly I saw her shadow through the cafe window I watched you lean across the table I watched you whisper in her ear And she
It all started nine years ago You sat to my left back in school The future showed itself to me The god in you, the god in me, stood together like two
I am not the person who is singing I am the silent one inside I am not the one who laughs at people's jokes I just pacify their egos I am not my house
I'm siphoning gas from the high school bus Into the tank of my beat-up bug So I can drive away from the shouting and misery I drive into the night, to
have all the cowboys gone Why don't you stay the evening Kick back and watch the TV And I'll fix a little something to eat Oh I know your back hurts from
Carmen, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know if I can go back Carmen I'll never be never be never be the same again Carmen (6 times) The way you
I remember the pain in my mother's eyes, I remember the pain of her compromise years ago. I always wanted to help to make it go away, I didn't know it
hidden inside Now when you step You stumble You die Chorus Oh maybe next time You'll be Henry the 8th Wake up tomorrow, alexander the great Open your
the war he saw Lives inside him still It's so hard to be gentle and warm The years passed by and now He has granddaughters Chorus Oh so you look at me From
Korea Or here at home, right under our fingertips In new slavery prison systems Holding one in four black American brothers The one percent wealthy profiteering From
Pulling on the apron strings looking up Standing on the chair to be grown up I feel so little, I need my pillow I hate the time, I hate the clock I want
my sheltered Milky Way In Saturn's rings I feel no pain. In my heart, in my head Oh, Saturn Girl has always bled No you're not, from this world Saturn