I Want You #35 - Rodney Crowell

Daddy bought you like a toy

Mama taught you to be coy

Make your bed down in the dirt

Bow your head, lift your skirt

From your lips to my ears

All down through your tender ears

A poor little rich girl, junk food heiress

Born in forth world, raised in Paris

Well, listen honey, screwed the money, I want you

Something changed you, laid you low

your senses, made you slow

Wrote your name down in the book

State the claim on how do you look

I can’t blame you if you think that

Tie you to the kitchen sink

Drain your pockets, drink your blood

Drag you through the muck and mud

Must be said, you made your bed but I want you

It’s the way your hair falls in your face

And the way you move from place to place

It’s the way you wear your curse

As if there could be something worse than

Trapped inside a glass house dying

Waiting for the bricks to fly

Oh my, my, my

So he left you with no God

Trapped behind that cracked facade

Had for a woman have a heart

Not too down, not too smart

I will have once something clicks

Eat you like a ton of bricks

And circumstances been to break you

Why, oh why would God forsake you?

Vis-a-vis, him or me, I want you

baby, I don’t care, I want you