Thursday's Child

I got nothing to hide
I'm as naked as the day I was born
In November and you know all what they say
Thursday’s child has far to go, don’t I know

I got far to go, should I leave you behind
And drive to Alaska on Saturday night
These four walls around me are keeping out the light

No one’s riding shotgun, I'm driving alone
I can turn up the music and do whatever I want
When I get to the border, put a quarter a payphone

Oh, my tyranny’s gonna crumble
And so, sit next to me and fumble with the buttons on my dress
What do you want to be?
I want to be a poet

To get down on my knees and unplug your drain
I feel an ache in my bones every time that it rains
And when I look up at the Sun and the sky I tell time

If something is leaking, just give me a call
There’s a tear on your cheek, there’s a crack in the wall
I can soak up the water with the folds of my black shawl

Oh, my tyranny’s gonna crumble
And so, sit next to me and fumble with the buttons on my dress
What do you want to do?
I want to watch you stumble

Stumble through this fertile land
In your pocket are both my hands
When you get to the other side, the northern lights and a blanket of white

I wanted to be a singer, so I grew my hair long
I needed a guitar slinger to push me along
To fill out my verse and my chorus with a baritone

I got nothing to hide, I'm laying it out there
Take it or leave it, you can figure it out
“Thursday’s child has far to go, ” I'm gonna shout

Oh, my tyranny’s gonna crumble
And so, sit next to me and fumble with the buttons on my dress
Buttons on my
Buttons on my dress