Why every time when something hurts   Someone always comes and wants to make it worse?   I'll never make the cover of a rolling stone   But at least I know my life's my own      On my back porch what will it mean   On my notes tell me what they'll mean      Splitting up the difference between one and two   Doesn't make a difference for me or you   What the signs they say   Trucks that we met back and forth on any day but Sunday      At four o' clock   And the meter's running too late now   Put your quarter in   And you know you won't be found      Don't know it   Don't know it      I know inside that you're afraid of me   I've become all the things that I said I would be   Something more than rehearsed, the pain I feel contained   I look in the mirror and I saw someone else      Don't be anything [Incomprehensible]