Baby, why'm I worried now,   did someone make a fool of me   'fore I could show 'em how it's done?   Can't give up actin' tough,   it's all that I'm made of.   Can't scrape together quite enough   to ride the bus to the outskirts    of the fact that I need love.      There were times that I tried,    one for every glass of water    that I spilled next to the bed,    wretching pennies in a boiling well   in a dream that it once becomes    a foundry of mute and heavy bells.   They shake me deaf and dumb   say, "Someone made a fool of me    'fore I could show 'em how it's done."      It was so clear to me    that it was almost invisible.   I lie across the path waiting,    just for a chance to be a spiderweb    trapped in your lashes.    For that, I would trade you my empire for ashes.   But I choke it back, how much I need love...