Robber

I never believed in the robber
I never saw nobody climb over my fence
No black bag, no gloved hand
I never believed in the robber
I figured everything he took was gone
Nothing to do, nothing to be done
I never believed in the robber
No, I never believed in the robber

You never believed in the robber
You thought, “A robber must hate you to wanna take from you”
The robber don’t hate you
You never believed in the robber
But the robber never believed in you
You were two halves of the same piece, divided into two
No, the robber don’t hate you

No, the robber don’t hate you, he had permission
Permission by words, permission of thanks
Permission by laws, permission of banks
White table cloth dinners, convention centers
It was all done real carefully
Make real imagination, make unreal that which can be taken
Turn your gaze from the window’s light
Turn your attention to this sharp knife

I never believed in the robber
When I was young, I learned how to make love to the robber
To dance with the other
To wring from his hand the touch of a lover
I never believed in the robber
Nobody taught me nothing was mine
If nothing was mine, taking was all there was
Looting at dawn, looting at dusk
Hold open the gates for the want with lust
And all I saw was the dust, kicked up