Monica:
This is excruciating, somewhat humiliating
Waiting here, no place to run
Doing the deed that must be done
And I still got dreams to settle
Call me an unblossomed petal
Flowering into something wild
I can't be a mother while I'm still a child
I wanna be free
And there's two dozen women waiting in line
All with the same problem as mine
Places to go, people to see
Things to do, things to be
Twenty-four women, just like me
Singing along in harmony
It's my baby, my body
My choice
On the slab, I lie, I part my legs
I start to cry, they start to press
I think of Mommy beautiful in her Friday night dress
Groggy anesthesia, foggy with amnesia
There's everything I ever thought I wanted
Disappears
And I leap of the slab
And I run out the room
And in my womb
Baby boom
It starts to rain, I go get the train
With my baby, in my body
My choice
Done
We have a son
His name is Glasgow
Two years old
Good as gold
Glasgow Miller Wallace
He's got a little bed, he's got a lava lamp
He's got a wee guitar and an even wee-er amplifier
Why, you should hear him sing
It's what he loves to do
And cause he does, he lives in us
And he has kept me close to you
Say something
Anything at all
Ian:
Talk about dumbstruck
Me, a father, good luck
Always could rely on her
To bring me news that rendered me
Unstuck, unglued
Undone
I have got a son
That requires some contemplation
What do I do with this information?
Late nights in my studio
Playing with sound and sonic vision
Plugging into the rhythm of dissidence I felt inside
Each minor chord and major test
A back beat playing in my chest
Your smile, your face, the bass, the boom
The empty space I call my room
But I was always one step off my best
When I was without you
I was always one step to the left
Within me without you
Monica:
No more loneliness
Ian:
Within me without you
Monica:
No more sorrow
Ian:
Within me without you
Both:
No more second guessing
No more wondering what if we had done things
Differently
