My Creator Wye Oak

What kind of man, what could I be?
Afraid of everyone I meet
Lie forever, afterthought
Some are men
And some are not

And what to feel?
What could I stand?
If there's my land
Was that your land?
Lie forever, future plans
But here I stay and here I am

And who but you?
What could I know?
To follow with me far below
My pretense and servitude
And crippling dependency

What kind of woman would I be
If I refuse what's asked of me?
Some lines can turn you, others rot
Some names will never be forgot
My body can, but I cannot
I'm sorry, mommy
I cannot