lunes, 25 de agosto de 2008

not ready.

i made my bed and i sleep like a baby
with no regrets and i don’t mind sayin’
it’s a sad sad story when a mother will teach her
daughter that she ought to hate a perfect stranger
and how in the world can the words that i said
send somebody so over the edge
that they’d write me a letter
sayin’ that i better shut up and sing
or my life will be over