| I’m not afraid of you now, I know
|
| So I climbed down from the bunk beds this low
|
| I can talk back to you now, I know
|
| From a few things I learned from this TV show
|
| You can work late till midnight, we don’t care
|
| We can fix our own meals, we can wash our own hair
|
| I go to school before sunrise, in the cold
|
| And I pulled the alarm, and I kicked up the salad bowls
|
| Since that time we meant to say much
|
| Unsaid things begin to change
|
| After school we shoveled through the snow
|
| ??? |
| stayed inside with silence in the cold
|
| You can remind me of it
|
| That I was lazy and tired
|
| You can work all your life as
|
| I’m not afraid of you anymore
|
| If I loved you a long time, I don’t know
|
| If I can’t recall the last time you told me so Here in this house in Pittsfield
|
| The ghost of our grandmother works at the sewing machine post
|
| Hiding the bills in the kitchen on the floor
|
| And my sister lost her best friend in the Persian Gulf War
|
| There was a flood in the bathroom last May
|
| And you kicked at the pipes when it rattled oh the river it made
|
| Stand there, tell me that I’m of no use
|
| Things unspoken break us if we share
|
| There’s still time to wash the kitchen floor
|
| On your knees, at the sink once more
|
| You can remind me that I was tired
|
| You can work late and give yourself up Now that I’m older, wiser, and working less
|
| I don’t regret having left the place a mess
|
| You can remind me that I was lazy and tired
|
| You can recall your life as
|
| I’m not afraid of you, anymore
|
| Anymore |