Ani DiFranco

Both Hands

I am walkingout in the rainand I am listening to the low moanof the dial tone againand I am gettingnowhere with youand I can’t let it goand I can’t get through…the old woman behind the pink curtainsand the closed dooron the first floorshe’s listening through the air shaftto see how long our swan song can

Blood In The Boardroom

sitting in the boardroomthe I’m-so-bored roomlistening to the suitstalk about their worldthey can make straight linesout of almost anythingexcept for the lineof my upper lip when it curlsdressed in my best greasy skinand squinty eyesI’m the only part of summer herethat made it insidein the air-conditioned buildingdecorated with coporate flairI wondercan these boys smell me

If He Tries Anything

I’m invincibleso are youwe do all the thingsthey say we can’t dowe walk aroundin the middle of the nightand if it’s too far to walkwe just hitch a ride we got rings of dirtaround our neckswe talk like auctioneersand we bounce like checkswe smell like shitstill, when we walk down the streetall the boys line

Brief Bus Stop

she sat there like a photographof someone much further awaywe shared a brief bus stopon one of those inbetween daysshe gave me her smileand I looked underneathat the lipstick on her teeth she asked me for a lightand if I thought her hair looked okaywe grew out of the small talkinto stuff strangers just don’t

Light Of Some Kind

i wish i didn’t have this nervous laughi wish i didn’t say half the stuff i sayi wish i could just learn to cover my tracksi guess i’m not concerned about getting away ’cause every time i try to hold my tongueit slips like a fish from a linethey say if you want to playyou


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