Jimmy Buffett
In the shelter, in the morning as
the sun was brightly gleaming,
I heard her crying out,
"What is it all about? I just don't know,
but I can't go back home."
Lonely princess, all the days out
on your own are growing empty.
Nothin' is goin' well; if you
could only tell them how you feel.
But they're too real to understand.
Too many trite expressions ending in
forced rejection long ago.
Too many innocent faces in too many
far-out places; something's wrong.
Let me tell you that something's wrong.
It's been thatway so long, and it's a shame.
On the street car to the city,
where she knows that she may lose it all,
riding for just a dime,
takin' her own sweet and knowing well
that this could be her final fall,
past the boutique, down the alley,
to the river, people pass her by.
She sits on the big grey rocks;
takes off her boots and socks,
not knowing what she will do next;
just starts to cry.
To many small suggestions ending in
angry questions from her dad.
To many TV dinners; ah, everyone
loves a winner, but she has lost.
No ones knows the trials she had.
In the shelter, in the morning as
the sun was brightly gleaming,
I heard her crying out,
"What is it all about? I just
don't know, but I can't go back home."
Hell, I just don't know, but
I can't go back home.
