they say, "honey, we love you"
i say, "well everyone makes mistakes sometimes"
i think it's just too much to carry with me on a 4 hour busride
so i head home with the letters he signs "yours"
i head over to brooklyn in my mind
he speaks to me at night,
asks me if i'm gonna fall in love with him
another time

hear my bedside, here beside my head

it's after dark, really,
the way he is, the way i am
he scats to me clearly,
low breathed is a language my hands understand
i'm thinking all the time with an instant photo
in the back pocket of my pants
pressing pleated skin & nearly
the roadmap to my grand plan

hear my bedside, here beside my head

baby, write onto my skin
while i write myself into your history
maybe with my picture in the paper
the whole wide world would want to read me
my voice is all i've got but i promise, baby,
i would never let you own me
i'll read between the lines
if you'll mind the train doors closing slowly behind me

hear my bedside, here beside my head