Invisible Blues
Somebody's always shoving a blue ribbon in my face Telling me how lucky I am to be a woman When really my teeth hurt from swallowing my words I have no shoulder to store my hurt and the fine layer of dust on all the furniture is bothering me But I can't be bothered to get on my feet And how the granadillas have ripened nicely So there are always more leaves to sweep Day by day, rinse and repeat I only ever feel complete, at ease when I tote my third cup of coffee without spilling a drop I always know the best places to look when something is lost Doesn't that say a lot