Why burn poor and lonely?
Under a bowl or under a lampshade
Or on the shelf beside the bed
Where at night you lay turning like a door on its hinges
First on your left side, then on your right side
Then your left side again
Why burn poor and lonely?
Tell all the stones we're gonna make a building
They'll be cut into shape and set into place
Or if you'd rather be a window I'd gladly be the frame
Reflecting any kind words, we'll let in all the blame
And ruin our reputation all the same
And never mind our plan-making
We'll start living
Anyway, aren't you unbearably said?
Then why burn so poor and lonely?
We'll be like torches
We'll be like torches
We'll be like torches, oh
We'll be torches together
Torches together
We'll be like torches
We'll be like torches
With whatever respected our tattered dignity demands
Torches together, hand-in-hand
Why pluck one string?
What good is just one note?
Oh, one string sounds fine, I guess
But we were once one notes
We were lonely wheat quietly ground into grain
What light and momentary pain
So why the safe distance, this curious look?
Why tear out single pages when you can throw away the book?
Why pluck one string when you can strum the guitar?
Strum the guitar, strum the guitar
Strum the guitar with no beginning, with no end
Take down the guitar, and strum the guitar
Strum the guitar if you're afraid
And I'm afraid and everyone's afraid and everyone knows it
But we don't have to be afraid anymore
You played the flute
But no one was dancing
You sang a sad song
But none of us cried
You played the flute
But no one was dancing
And you sang a sad song
And none of us cried
You played the flute
But no one was dancing
You sang a sad song
But none of us cried
You played the flute
But no one was dancing
And you sang a sad song
You sang such a sad song