The Twilight Hour The The

You're lying on your bed
And making shadows on the wall
It's almost too hot to move
Outside your window
People are driving home from work
For the weekend
But you're waiting for the phone to ring
You're gonna tell her exactly what you think

You practice getting your mouth around the words
That explain the way you feel
You've been scared to show your real self
In case she doesn't like what she sees
You've been a "prostitute to humility"
She's invaded your life
And you've got to live apart
In order to survive

You were emotionally independent
But starved of affection
But now you've been trapped by tenderness
And been beaten into "submission"

It's now way past the hour she usually phones
You've decided not to tell her your little joke