I Don't Much Care...
If Love comes knockin’ on my door.
Don't get me wrong...
Love is always welcome, to be sure.
Love would be a revered - absolutely adored guest.
(albeit incredibly mysterious)
But I won't hope against hope.
Or bribe my way into affection.
I’ve paid more than I could ever afford.
And I’m not one to beg.
* * *
This scarred hand’s been outstretched too long, too long.
This wounded palm has come up empty.
Now, I’m not one to want more than I deserve.
So I won’t sell myself dear.
Neither will I sell myself cheap.
Yeah, I had me my tarnished coins.
My thirty pieces o' silver.
It wasn’t enough.
I won’t bend to be accepted.
I won’t grovel at the feet of Love.
I’ll wear my hair shirt.
I most surely will...
Now and forever.
But I won’t sell myself cheap.
* * *