“Oh woman, I’m your servant / Asking for the right to look you in the eye. / Oh woman, I am dying / For you to notice how far I’ve come. / I’m moving downtown and your daughter’s walking by me, / I believe you’re still deciding if you like having me around / If they like having me around, I need to know. Why, / The mailman’s coming by to collect the box I’ve filled / With things I hate about myself, things I liked before I got here. / Then I’ll pick her up. We’ll do / Anything she wants—anything we want—anything you want. / Oh, woman, I don’t care.”
Thanks, Chris Thile/Punch Brothers.
