Adie ☆ Your Way

Words and Music: Emily Saliers

I don’t know if it was real or in a dream
Lately waking up I’m not sure where I’ve been
There was a table set for six and five were there
I stood outside and kept my eyes upon that empty chair
And there was steam on the windows from the kitchen
Laughter like a language I once spoke with ease
But I’m made mute by the virtue of decision
And I choose most of your life goes on without me
Oh the fear I’ve known
That I might reap the praise of strangers and end up on my own
All I’ve sown was a song
But maybe I was wrong

I said to you the one gift which I’d adore
The package of the next 10 years unfolding
But you told me if I had my way I’d be bored (I’d be bored)
Right then I knew I loved you best born of your scolding
I don’t know if it was real or in a dream
Lately waking up I’m not sure where I’ve been
There was a table set for six and five were there
I stood outside and kept my eyes upon that empty chair
And there was steam on the windows from the kitchen
Laughter like a language I once spoke with ease
But I’m made mute by the virtue of decision
And I choose most of your life goes on without me
Oh the fear I’ve known
That I might reap the praise of strangers and end up on my own
All I’ve sown was a song
But maybe I was wrong

I said to you the one gift which I’d adore
The package of the next 10 years unfolding
But you told me if I had my way I’d be bored (I’d be bored)
Right then I knew I loved you best born of your scolding
When we last talked we were lying on our backs (lying on our backs)
Looking at the sky through the ceiling (looking at the sky, looking through the
ceiling)
I used to lie like that alone out on the driveway
Trying to read the Greek upon the stars
The alphabet of feeling
Oh I knew back then
It was a calling that said if joy then pain
The sound of the voice these years later
Is still the same

I am alone in a hotel room tonight
I squeeze the sky out but there’s not a star appears
Begin my studies with this paper and this pencil
And I’m working through the grammar of my fears
Oh mercy (mercy) what I won’t give
To have the things that mean the most not to mean the things I miss
Unforgiving the choice still is
The language or the kiss