With your measured abandon and your farmer's walk With your "let's go" smile and your bawdy talk With your mother's burden and your father's stare With your pretty dresses and your ragged underwear Oh you With your heart-shaped rocks and your rocky heart With your worn-out shoes and your eagerness to start With your sudden lust on an old dirt path With your candle-lit prayers and your lonely bath Oh you Now you stand at the station and you look at the sky And the train rolled in and it went on by You had packed up your suitcase, you had saved up the fare And you don't know why, but you're still standing there With your pledge of allegiance and your ringless hand With your young woman's terror and your old woman's plan With your sister's questions and your brother's tears With your empty womb and the forsaken years Oh you With your barroom poems and your Sinatra songs With your twenty notebooks each five pages long With your secret hideout made of leaves and mud With your pocket knife and your roaring blood Oh you Well, your children look at you and wonder 'Bout this woman made up of lightning bugs and thunder And they take in what you can't help but show With your name that is half yes, half no With your jealous eye and your wish to do right With your hungry arms and your sleepless nights With your joy in the circle and your stories to tell You walk around jangling the keys to your cell Oh you Now it looks like rain and it's all gone gray And in a while there'll be another sunlit day And you won't remember the half open door Or the train that won't even stop there any more For you