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lyrics

Box on a desk
Next to a castle of glass
That they bought from the airport
The price on the back

Shelves overflow
With photographs and bones
A museum of someone
That will never be known

Pennies for thoughts
That cost a mountain of debt
Rusting in bottles
They’ll never come to collect
They’ll never come to collect

And you were sure that you could keep it all
Off in a tower where there’d always be space
And you were sure that if you read it all
You would eventually come across your own name

Daffodils hanging off a rearview of lies
You keep your foot on the pedal
And you can’t see outside.

Boxes of novels
Fill all the seats and the trunk
There’s barely room for a driver
In this treasure chest of junk

And the tower is crumbling
And you are thinking of running
From all these years of commitment
To keep this dead garden growing
To keep this dead garden growing

And you were sure that you could learn it all
And if you did than you would always be safe
And you were sure that you could use it all
To build a fortress they could never take

It’s got to be around here somewhere
Maybe you’re really going mad
Maybe it’s buried in the old school
Maybe you never really

And now you’re starting look
A little like someone in a book
You’ve tucked yourself inside
Your body pressed and dried

Fairies and princes
And the story doesn’t change
He keeps slaying the dragon
She’s still chained to the cage

And it’s time to retire
But you can’t give up the title
As the head of collections
For these dead letter files
As the head of collections
For these dead letter files

And you were sure that you could keep it all locked
And all the nice dark things would never get lit
And you were sure that you could keep them out
And you were sure that you could keep yourself hid

It’s got to be around here somewhere
Maybe it’s under mom and dad
Maybe you wrote it in your diary
Maybe you never really
It’s got to be around here somewhere
Maybe you have it to your son
Maybe it’s time you just admit that
Maybe you never really had
A past worth passing on.

credits

from Sketches For the Musical JIB, released September 13, 2016

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Amanda Palmer Boston

performer, writer, giver, taker, listener, love-lover, rule-hater and co-founder of the Brechtian punk cabaret duo, The Dresden Dolls.

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