She doesn't say much

 SHE DOESN’T SAY MUCH (E A D G B E, capo 2)

 

She doesn’t say much. She doesn’t need to. She hears her heartbeat thud soft like thunder.

One at a time. One after the other. One to keep. One for each other.

She writes her own songs and I’m just a con man trying to keep up the best I can.

Like a can of beans. Or a tin of fruit. There’s plenty for me and heaps for you.

 

Like a fool I fell. Tumbling down wells I dug up out of fear.

Like a fool I crashed. Everything just broke. Now I’ve got to clean this mess.

 

She doesn’t say much but she looks closely. She’s on her own but she’s never lonely.

She’s got a choice and some big decisions. The bigger they are the more she listens.

When she goes the wrong way she always makes it right. Wherever she lands she never breaks her stride.

And she sleeps real good every night. No matter the place, no matter the time. No matter the daylight. Especially in daylight.

 

And it’s been true for ages. And I mean literally ages. How sweet it is to know.

The wise are good, the wise are bad. The wise are angry, the wise are glad. The wise are privileged in their choice.

 

Give me space. Give me time. Give words to describe all these things I feel inside. Let them not eat me alive.

Give me space to hold close. Give me light. Give me a ghost. Give me pain. Give me a rope. Give me a tree. Tell me a joke.