Blouse

Here we are, quiet at your kitchen table
With courtesy to little pet peeves
Napkins on laps, strands pulled back
I hang the scarf and my mom’s anorak

Why do I tell you how I feel
When you’re just looking down the blouse?
It’s something I wouldn’t say out loud
If touch could make them hear, then touch me now
If touch could make them hear, then touch me now

Talking to some who laugh and others scorned
I guess humor could help me after all
It’s funny now, I’m just useless and a whore
But I get a cosign from your favorite one-man show

Why do I tell you how I feel
When you’re too busy looking down my blouse?
It’s something I wouldn’t say out loud
If touch could make them hear, then touch me now
If touch could make them hear, then touch me now
If touch could make them hear, then touch me now
Now

Mm-mm-mm
Mm-mm-mm
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm