Lucinda Williams

The distance between us is great.

Just because it's raining where I am doesn't mean it's raining where you are.

Every time I think of you I think, ' what's wrong with me?'

Would you give me your kidney? I'd give you mine.

Remember the man we both knew, the addict? Remember how he kicked? He swallowed the last pill but kept the little bottle. Every night he'd open the bottle and pretend to take a pill, going through the motions of swallowing a glass of water, screwing the bottle cap back on, placing the bottle back in the drawer. Within 5 minutes he'd feel all better.

I heard you singing last night. "I don't want your drugs, I don't want your money, I just want to steal your love."

I couldn't sleep so I went downstairs, sat in the big green chair, put my headphones on and listened to you sing. At 4 a.m. I gave up and walked back up to bed.

Lucinda, sometimes everything's just so sad. Even the sound of the step I step on is sad, and the step after that. Each step makes a little sound when I step on it, each step makes the same sound because I'm the same person stepping on it, I haven't changed, and that's sad.