Oh You

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