The Mute

Well, as a child I mostly spoke inside my head I had conversations with the clouds, the dogs, the dead And they thought my broken, that my tongue was coated lead But I just couldn't make my words make sense to them If you only listen with your ears I can't get in And I spent my evenings pullin' stars out of the sky And I'd arrange them on the lawn where I would lie And in the wind I'd taste the dreams of distant lives And I would dress myself up in them through the night While my folks would sleep in separate beds and wonder why And through them days I was a ghost atop my chair My dad considered me a cross he had to bear And in my head I'd sing apologies and stare As my mom would hang the clothes across the line And she would try to keep the empty from her eyes So, then one afternoon I dressed myself alone I packed my pillowcase with everything I owned And in my head I said goodbye, then I was gone And I set out on the heels of the unknown So my folks could have a new life of their own So that maybe I could find someone Who could hear the only words that I'd known