Lyrics

Michelle waits the tables of Chicago,
9 to 5, 5 to 1.
She doesn’t cry when she tells me
Her sister’s been shot in Miami.
She says, “That’s how my life runs.”

A banker from Boston,
On a late night by a pool in Bombay,
Wonders if maybe
There isn’t more to life than money
And turns his head away.

I can’t remember the last time that I knew
Someone was saying something I should listen to.

I live with an actor from LA,
Spends his time screening his calls.
Says “These circles of pretending
Are just never ending
And all I can I feel today is small.”

I know a woman who married.
Puts her whole life on a shelf.
Says she keeps up that ironing
To keep away that longing
To leave and take care of herself.

Called Michelle in Chicago.
She’s still got the strength to be kind.
She’s still waiting those tables
To the best that she is able.
Says her life’s “going”
Asks me how’s mine.

I would tell her I’m happy
But I can’t say for sure that I’m sane.
I don’t even know how
To know where to go now.
Everywhere looks the same.

I can’t remember what any of this is for.
What I once knew isn’t true anymore.
I can’t remember the last time that I knew
Someone was saying something I should listen to.