These are the thoughts that go through my head
In my backyard on a Sunday afternoon
When I have the house to myself and I am not
Expending all that energy on fighting with my boyfriend
Is he the one that I will marry?
And why is it so hard to be objective about myself
Why do I feel cellularly alone
Am I supposed to live in this crazy city
Can blindly continued fear induce regurgitated
Life denying tradition be overcome
Where does the money go that I send to those in need
If we have so much why do some people have nothing
Still I do I feel frantic when I first wake up in the morning
Why do you say you are spiritual
Yet you treat people like shit
How can you say you're close to God
And yet you talk behind my back as though I'm not
A part of you why do you say you're fine when it's
Obvious you are not, why's it so hard to tell you
What I want
Why can't you just read my mind
Why do I fear that the quieter I am the less you will listen
Why do I care whether you like me or not
Why's it so hard for me to be angry
Why is it such work to stay conscious and so easy to get stuck
And not the other way around
Will I ever move back to Canada again?
I'd be with a lover with whom I am a student
And a master why am I encouraged to shut my mouth
When it gets too close to home,
Why cannot I live in the mo - ment
Writer(s): Glen Ballard, Alanis Nadine Morissette
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