The Things I Say - Joanna Newsom

If I have the space of half a day

I’m ashamed of half the things I say

I’m ashamed to have turned out this way

And I desire to make amends

But it don’t make no difference, now

And no one’s listening, anyhow

And lists of sins and solemn vows

Don’t make you any friends

There’s an old trick played

When the light and the wine conspire

To make me think I’m fine

I’m not, but I have got half a mind

To maybe get there, yet

When the sky goes pink in Paris, France

Do you think of the girl who used to dance

When you’d frame her moving within your hands

Saying, «This I won’t forget»

What happened to the man you were

When you loved somebody before her?

Did he die?

Or does that man endure, somewhere far away?

Our lives come easy and our lives come hard

And we carry them like a pack of cards:

Some we don’t use, but we don’t discard

But keep for a rainy day