Eager To Fly Lincoln Street
She's screaming at him And he's yelling back While the kids crawl in the corner. I don't know what's going on And I doubt they have an answer. "Why don't you close the door when I ask you? You never seem to listen." But I think that listening is something they don't understand. In the evenings they argue for hours About the different shades of white. The only thing that they agree on Is turning off the light. The big divide came with no surprise With the kids tossed in the corner. Five years pass on Lincoln Street And they still don't have an answer. "Why don't you close the door when I ask you? You never seem to listen." But I think that listening is something they don't understand. "Haven't seen my dad in 2 years," he cries, Although I write him every week." But no replies leaves an ache inside That he's trying to replace. "Why don't you close the door when I ask you? You never seem to listen. But I think that listening is something we don't understand.
