At the clinic, wonderin' what your face would be like
Mascara bleedin' to my eyes
Tied like a dog on a chain with a midlife crisis and an ex husband
Sneaking a Marlboro Ultra Light I stole from a nurse out there in the alley
Halfway home is where the heart is and I'm halfway home

White trash, trailer trash, they said you'd always be it
And you said, "One day you'll see"
But lately, you start to wonder if maybe they were right
Spit on you at school outside
And n the locker room and in the bathroom too
Locked you in the stall
Bless this mess, can I bum a light?

The cars out on the L.A. freeway
They look like red and white Christmas lights strung out on a chain
The ex virgin Mary of 49th street has a pocket full of pills
She sold herself for synthetic heroin and sleepin' with a man twice her age
Really though it was anything but sleepin'

Nice neighbors, bad cough
No health insurance this year, transitional neighborhood
Gentrification comes like it always does and some nice condos, they go in
But the needles in the alley they're still layin' there
Don't go barefoot or take a nap out there
Wear shoes if you have 'em
Undercover methadone clinic
Children, close your eyes

Say a lullaby and think of a nursery rhyme
Or maybe somethin' your mama used to tell you when you couldn't sleep
Jill fell down, when the bow breaks, oh, the cradle will fall
Down will come baby, down will come baby, down will come baby
Just put out the cigarette
Just make a decision, Lydia, just make a decision
It's yours

Close your eyes and make a wish
Hear the whisper of God
He used to talk like you, you used to see His face in the clouds
Now I see your face in my mind
It's wrong for him to want it
Bless this mess, brush your hair
Fix yourself up real nice, you've got a show tonight

Singin' down at the Broken Bottle, half waiting shifts
Get the guys a couple of beers, go on get the food, living off tips and meth
Then I came home after dancin' one night
And I wrecked my car
So you had to take a bus now
So you've got a long walk to think about it
A long walk to the station
A long life ahead to live with yourself
So think about it, Lydia
So think about it, Lydia

Copyright: RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC
Writer(s): Margo Price