My life is a study in Murphy's Law;
A high freak factor
and a constant knocking at my door.

Tap, tap, tapping
to the rhythm of my
heart beat as it speeds up,
as everything I need pops up
and I can't seem to let go.

I'm running through the fields
with a tiger on my tail,
and there are no free rides left,
I can't even pick up this gear.

If I take your offer
will your grasp slip away?
When I pull, as I will
for I simply cannot stand
the stagnation
and the pure indignation.

So I perch and I watch
from the highest branch
and I wonder,
what might sunder
the beauty from the breast.

There's something about
all this flying high
that just makes me feel
we're headed 
for a massacre,
a real free for all.

I saw the carnival light up
as dusk settled on the land,
and the lights were little fire flies
resting, as I reached out,
on the fingers of my hand.

I'm a woman and I'm wild,
and I've got no place to go.
Please, Lord, just let it-

If you freeze it all,
this moment,
and I can look down at a glance
I'm sure I'll see the something
that'll give me half a chance.

It's not that I'm a beggar,
it's not that I won't work -
it's just I know that right now
I've got no place to go.

Where's the heart ache 
supposed to settle
if you haven't got a home -
I don't mean a place, or dream
but that knowing that there's always
a root from which to grow.