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I was born a spark plug girl, cut from heart and iron
Papaâs hands were small and strong, Mamaâs soft smile wide
But I know all the good girls move so slow
Iâve been soaking up the TV glow
Iâve been feeding mirrors, bleeding on tip-toes
Chorus:
Itâs hard times for the quiet kind
They tame their tongues and wait in line
While the Cadillac kids pay no mind
I donât want to be the one they leave behind
I cut my teeth neath dead heroes, who live on on my wall
Their voices blown, their elbows thrown, but thatâs not what I recall
All around, there were preachers with furrowed brows
Poor pundits paid to stretch their mouths
But the widest eyes are blind when looking around
Chorus
Last night I dreamt I was ten feet tall, and I punched right through the roof
Right past Papaâs sullen stare, sighing âthatâs not what we doâ
But I wanna hush that quiet and I
And I wanna shout it out loud and I
wanna climb these walls before they climb all over me
Chorus