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Ani DiFranco




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Альбом Ani DiFranco


Like I Said (1993)
1993
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. . .



You are subtle as a window pane
Standing in my view
But I will wait for it to rain
So that I can see you
You call me up at night
When there's no light passing through
And you think that I don't understand
But I do

We don't say everything that we could
So that we can say later
Oh, you misunderstood
I hold my cards up
Close to my chest
I say what I have to
And I hold back the rest

'Cause someone you don't know
Is someone you don't know
Get a firm grip, girl
Before you let go
For every hand extended
Another lies in wait
Keep your eye on that one
Anticipate

Dress down get out there
Pick a fight with the police
We will get it all on film
For the new release
Seems like everyone's an actor
Or they're an actor's best friend
I wonder what was wrong to begin with
That they should all have to pretend
We lost sight of everything
When we have to keep checking our backs
I think we should all just smile
Come clean and relax

If there's anything I've learned
All these years on my own
It's how to find my own way there

. . .



Tending the garden of noise
When I grow the traffic
And the churchbells
And the neighborhood boys
Singing to myself
As the solitude sets in
In tune with the symphony of South Brooklyn
I sing

Rockabye, rockabye baby
Rockabye, the baby that is me
Rockabye, rockabye baby
Rockabye til I'm fast asleep

The tunnel is train torn
The tracks are worn and sore
I can feel the rattle
Riding up through the floor
She jumped the turnstyle
He paid for his ride
I am the echo in the station
Where their footfalls collide
I left her at the epicenter
We were trembling dutifully
I left him too
I left parts of me
Singing rockabye...

I said today I am leaving
In every sense of the word
But I'm in love with your memory already
Everything I've seen and heard
And I will go singing
As the solitude sets in
In time with the rythym
Of everywhere I have been

. . .



In a forest of stone
Underneath the corporate canopy
Where the sun rarely filters down
The ground is not so soft
Not so soft

They build buildings to house people
Making money
Or they build buildings to make money
Off of housing people
It's true
Like a lot of things are true
I am foraging for a phone booth on the forest floor
That is not so soft
I look up
It looks like the buildings are burning
But it's just the sun setting
The solar system calling an end to another business day
Eternally circling signally
The rythmic clicking on and off of computers
The pulse of the American machine
The pulse that draws death dancing
Out of anonymous side streets
You know
The ones that always get dumped on and never get plowed
It draws death dancing
Out of little countries
With funny languages
Where the ground is getting harder
And it was not that soft before

Those who call the shots are never in the line of fire
Why
Where there's life for hire out there
If a flag of truth were raised
We could watch every liar rise to wave it
Here we learn America like a script
Playwright
Birthright
Same thing
We bring ourselves to the role
We're all rehearsing for the presidency
I always wanted to be commander in chief of my one woman army

But I can envision the mediocrity of my finest hour
It's the failed America in me
It's the fear that lives in a forest of stone
Underneath the corporate canopy
Where the sun rarely filters down

. . .



Lying on the floor
Four stories high
In the corridor
Between the asphalt and the sky
I am caught like bottled water
The light daughter
I wonder what you look like
Under your t-shirt
I wonder what you sound like
When you're not wearing words
I wonder what we have
When we're not pretending
It's never-ending, haven't you heard?
I don't need to tell you
What this is about
You just start on the inside
And work your way out
We are all polylingual
But some of us pretend
There's virtue in relying
On not trying to understand
We're all citizens of the womb
Before we subdivide
Into sexes and shades
This side
That side
And I don't need to tell you
What this is about
You just start on the inside
And work your way out
Undressing for the fan
Like it was a man
Wondering about all the things
That I'll never understand
There are some things that you can't know
Unless you've been there
But oh how far we could go
If we started to share
I don't need to tell you
What it is about
You just start on the inside
You just start on the inside

. . .



I opened the fire door to four lips
None of which were mine
Kissing
Tightened my belt around my hips
Where your hands were missing
And stepped out into the cold
Collar high
Under the slate grey sky
The air was smoking and the streets were dry
And I wasn't joking when I said
Good Bye
Magazine quality men talking on the corner
French, no less much less of them then us
So why do I feel like something's been rearranged?
You know, taken out of context I must seem so strange
Killed a cockroach so big
It left a puddle of pus on the wall
When you and I are lying in bed
You don't seem so tall
I'm singing now because my tear ducts are too tired
And my brain is disconnected but my heart is wired
I make such a good statistic
Someone should study me now
Somebody's got to be interested in how I feel
Just 'cause I'm here
And I'm real
Oh, how I miss
Substituting the conclusion to confrontation with a kiss
And oh, how I miss
Walking up to the edge and jumping in
Like I could feel the future on your skin
I opened the fire door to four lips
None of which were mine
Kissing


. . .



Thank you for letting me stay here
Thank you for taking me in
Thank you for the beer and the food
Thank you for loaning me bus fare
Thank you for showing me around
That was a very kind thing to do
Thank you for the use of the clean towel
Thank you for half of your bed
We can sleep here like brother and sister, you said

But you changed the rules in an hour or two
And I don't know what you and your sisters do
But please don't 
Please stop
This is not my obligation
What does my body have to do
With my gratitude?

Look at you
Little white lying
For the purpose of justifying
What you're trying to do
I know that you feel my resistance
I know that you heard what I said
Otherwise you wouldn't need the excuse

Thank you
For letting me stay here
Thank you for taking me in
I don't know where else
I would have turned
But I don't come and go
Like a pop song
That you can play incessantly
And then foget when it's gone
You can't write me off
And you don't turn me on

So don't change the rules in an hour or two
I don't know what you and your sisters do
But please don't
Please stop
This is not my obligation

. . .



We can touch
Touch our girl cheeks
And we can hold hands
Like paper dolls
We can try
Try each other on
In the privacy
Within New York City's walls
We can kiss
Kiss goodnight
And we can go home wondering
What would it be like if
If I did not have a boyfriend
We could spend the whole night

I am waking up in her bed
I sing 1st avenue
The open window said
Always late to sleep
Late to rise
Lying here watching the day go by
In the living room
There are people on the carpet
Having stupid conversations
Just to hear themselves talk
And I am drifting through
I am heading for the kitchen

. . .



I am walking
Out in the rain
And I am listening to the low moan
Of the dial tone again
And I am getting
Nowhere with you
And I can't let it go
And I can't get through...
The old woman behind the pink curtains
And the closed door
On the first floor
She's listening through the air shaft
To see how long our swan song can last
And both hands
Now use both hands
Oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing
Graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of
How hard we tried
I am watching your chest rise and fall
Like the tides of my life,
And the rest of it all
And your bones have been my bedframe
And your flesh has been my pillow
I am waiting for sleep
To offer up the deep
With both hands
In each other's shadows we grew less and less tall
And eventually our theories couldn't explain it all
And I'm recording our history now on the bedroom wall
And eventually the landlord will come
And paint over it all
And I am walking
Out in the rain
And I am listening to the low moan of the dial tone again
And I am getting nowhere with you
And I can't let it go
And I can't get though
So now use both hands
Please use both hands
Oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried
Hard we tried

. . .



She says forget what you have to do
Pretend there is nothing
Outside this room
And like an idea she came to me
But she came too late
Or maybe too soon
I said please try not to love me
Close your eyes, I'm turning on the light
You know I have no vacancy
And it's awfully cold outside tonight

The rain stains the brick a darker red
Slowly I'm rolling out of her bed
The rain stains the streets a darker black
I dress my face in stone
Because I can't go back

I feel her eyes watching me
From behind the curtain of her hair
And she says I'm sorry
I didn't mean to stare
I say I think I really have to go now
But oh baby, maybe someday

. . .



Rush hour
And the day's dawning
The rain came
And pushed me under the awning
The puddles grew and threw themselves at me
With every passing car
I'm shielding my guitar
And there were some things that I
Did not tell him
There were certain things
He did not need to know
And there were some days
When I did not love him
He didn't understand me
And I don't know why
I didn't go
He said change the channel
I've got problems of my own
I'm so sick of hearing about drugs and AIDS
And people without homes
And I said, well,
I'd like to sympathize with that
But if you don't understand
Then how can you act
I expected summer to be there in the morning
I woke to the alarm
But she was out of arms reach
Sneaking out
On silent thighs
That were spent and sore
From the hot nights that came before
He said I looked for you
I don't know why
I said I was wearing black so you could
See me against the sky
Take your big leather boots
And your buckles and your chains
Put them on a downtown train
I expected he would be there in the morning
I awoke to the alarm
He was still in arm's reach
But his body was just a disguise
His mind had wandered off long ago
You see in his eyes
Love isn't over when the sheets are stained
In my head there remains
So much left to be said
Make me laugh, make me cry, enrage me

. . .



The butter melts out of habit
The toast isn't even warm
The waitress and the man in the plaid shirt
Play out a scene they've played
So many times before
I am watching the sun stumble home in the morning
From a bar on the east side of town
And the coffee is just water dressed in brown
Beautiful but boring
He visited me yesterday
He noticed my fingers
And asked me if I would play
I didn't really care a lot
But I couldn't think of a reason why not
I said if you don't come any closer I don't mind if you stay
My thighs have been involved in many accidents
And now I can't get insured
And I don't need to be lured by you
My cunt is built like a wound that won't heal
And now you don't have to ask
Because you know how I feel
You know how I feel

Art is why I get up in the morning
But my definition ends there
And it doesn't seem fair
That I'm living for something I can't even define
There you are right there
In the meantime

I don't want to play for you anymore
Show me what you can do
Tell me what are you here for
I want my old friends
I want my old face
I want my old mind
Fuck this time and place

The butter melts out of habit

. . .


-for Lucille Clifton

I opened a bank account
When I was nine years old
I closed it when I was eighteen
I gave them every penny that I'd saved
And they gave my blood and my urine
A number
Now I'm sitting in this waiting room
Playing with the toys
And I am here to exercise
My freedom of choice
I passed their handheld signs
Went through their picket lines
They gathered when they saw me coming
They shouted when they saw me cross
I said why don't you go home
Just leave me alone
I'm just another woman lost
You are like fish in the water
Who don't know that they are wet
As far as I can tell
The world isn't perfect yet
His bored eyes were obscene
On his denim thighs a magazine
I wish he'd never come here with me
In fact I wish he'd never come near me
I wish his shoulder wasn't touching mine
I am growing older
Waiting in this line
Some of life's best lessons are learned at the worst times
Under the fierce flourescent
She offered her hand for me to hold
She offered stability and calm
And I was crushing her palm
Through the pinch pull wincing
My smile unconvincing
On that sterile battlefield that sees
Only casualties
Never heroes
My heart hit absolute zero
Lucille, your voice still sounds in me
Mine was a relatively easy tragedy
Now the profile of our country looks a little less hard nosed
But that picket line persisted
And that clinic's since been closed
They keep pounding their fists on reality
Hoping it will break

. . .



He said Ani, you've gotten tough
'Cause my tone was curt
Yeah, and when I'm approached in a dark alley
I don't lift my skirt
In this city
Self-preservation is a full time occupation
I'm determined to survive on this shore
You know I don't avert my eyes anymore
In a man's world
I am a woman by birth
And after nineteen times around I have found
They will stop at nothing once they know what you are worth
Talk to me now
I played the powerless in too many dark scenes
And I was blessed with a birth and a death
And I guess I just want some say in between
Don't you understand
In the day to day
And the face to face
I have to act
Just as strong as I can
Just to preserve a place
Where I can be who I am
So if you still know how

. . .



The slant
A building settling around me
My figure female framed crookedly
In the threshold of the room
Door scraping floorboards
With every opening
Carving a rough history of bedroom scenes
The plot hard to follow
The text obscured in the fields of sheets
Slowly gathering the stains of seasons spent lying there
Red and brown
Like leaves fallen
The colors of an eternal cycle
Fading with the
Wash cycle
And the rinse cycle
Again an unfamiliar smell
Like my name misspelled or misspoken
A cycle broken
The sound of them strong
Stalking talking about their prey
Like the way hammer meets nail
Pounding, they say
Pounding out the rhythms of attraction
Like a woman was a drum like a body was a weapon
Like there was something more they wanted than the journey
Like it was owed to them
Steel toed they walk
And I'm wondering why this fear of men
Maybe it's because I'm hungry
And like a baby I'm dependent on them
To feed me
I am a work in progress
Dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding
Offering me intricate patterns of questions
Rhythms that never come clean

. . .


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