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It's too hard, to work this hard
Without your hand, in my hand
Without the heart participating
Withouth the soul accommodating
It's too hard, to be this hard
I am reaching for words, then letting them go
Turning off the telephone; pretending I'm not home
There's a woman, out my window
She is causing a scene
She is my mother, my lover, my father
She is me
Much too weak, to be this strong
Let me convince you that I carry on
As I am hallucinating, as these visions are penetrating
All these scars
I am putting out my pride; I am spitting out my tears
Thinking of people I haven't spoken to in years
I am awake while sleeping; I am lucidly dreaming
Like an animal chewing off the limbs that aren't healing
I am claiming an innocence that I don't own
Aching for affection from people I don't know
I am quiet, while screaming I am pathetically needy
Like a scavenger, hovering over everything worth keeping
I am bits and pieces, tattered and torn
A collage of the present, and what happened
Before....
Words and Music by Katie Miller, 1999
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