The Story

I would have returned your greeting
 If it weren't for the way you were looking at me
 This street is not a market
 And I am not a commodity
 Don't you find it sad that we can't even say hello
 'Cause you're a man
 And I'm a woman
 And the sun is getting low
 There are some places that I can't go
 As a woman I can't go there
 And as a person I don't care
 I don't go for the hey baby what's your name
 And I'd alone thank you
 Just the same
 I am up again against
 The skin of my guitar
 In the window of my life
 Looking out through the bars
 I am sounding out the silence
 Avoiding all the words
 I'm afraid I've said too much
 I'm afraid of who has heard me
 My father, he told me the story
 And it was true
 For his time
 But now the story's different
 Maybe I should tell him mine
 All the girls line up here
 All the boys on the other side
 I see your ranks are advancing
 I see mine are left behind
 I am up again against
 The skin of my guitar
 In the window of my life
 Looking out through the bars
 I am sounding out the silence
 Avoiding all the words
 I'm afraid I can never say enough
 I'm afraid no one has heard me
 And despite all the balls that I've been thrown
 And forced to drop
 On the social totem pole
 I'm preciously close to the top
 They put you in your place
 And they tell you to behave
 But no one can be free
 Until we're all on even grade
 And I would have returned your greeting